


Best Supporting Soulmate

by Valeris



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcyland, F/M, M/M, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 46,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeris/pseuds/Valeris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were thousands of studies about what a person’s soul marks did to their psychological development.  Darcy generally thought that they were bullshit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jane

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thanks for not burning up the whole ship.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247865) by [Valeris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeris/pseuds/Valeris). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those following this fic from Thanks for not burning up the whole ship, new content starts in Chapter 5.

Meeting Jane had been like discovering her favorite food (which for the record was gummy bears).  Darcy wasn't blind to her faults as a person.  She knew Jane wasn't perfect, just like she knew that gummy bears were, in the words of Seasame Street, a 'sometimes food'.

Jane wasn't a perfect person, but she was the perfect person for Darcy.

She was also the perfect person for someone else, as evidenced by the words that circled her right arm.  A bitter woman would say that they looked like a shackle.  Darcy was not bitter, and did not think that at all.

Sometimes when Jane had to roll up her sleeves to wash the dishes (or more often, when she was sanitizing the pipettes in the lab), Darcy saw her looking at them.  

They demanded attention in a way that Darcy’s didn’t.

**YOU!  WHAT WORLD IS THIS?**

And above that, so much smaller, tucked into the curve of her elbow;

_Hold on, I think I can fix this._

There were thousands of studies about what a person’s soul marks did to their psychological development.  Darcy generally thought that they were bullshit, but she could see how staring at the words “What world is this” might have made Jane who she was.

Darcy was more of a ‘best supporting actress’ type of soulmate.

She could accept that.   It had been obvious from the beginning that this was going to be a platonic connection, because Jane was so straight it was painful.  

Darcy had actually felt relieved.  Not that Jane wasn’t beautiful-- of course she was.  Darcy just had a better track record as a friend.


	2. Thor

The night they found Thor, Darcy took the cuff off her arm and looked at her soul marks.  Jane’s neat handwriting circled her wrist in a perfect circle:

_What do you think you’re doing?_

 

They left plenty of room for the words that had always terrified her.

** Stop. Just let me die. **


	3. Tony

The devastation in New York was almost unfathomable.  Darcy had thought that the whole dark elves thing had prepared her for the kind of destruction that an apocalypse situation involved, but she’d been wrong.

Every corner they turned seemed to have something broken.  A metal post box still attached to the cement but bent at a right angle.  An open storefront with plastic taped over the display windows.  

It was the people that were the worst.  The way they just picked through the rubble, still busy, still not making eye contact with each other.  $160 billion dollars in damage, deaths in the hundreds of thousands… and New York just got on with it.

No one should have to get used to something like this.

While Darcy was plastered to the window, Jane was burying herself in paperwork.

“Jane, stop freaking out.”  Darcy said, trying to pry Jane’s hand off of her stack of non-disclosure forms.  

“Darcy, no, look, I think that I can only have access to half of my research, I don’t think I read this form right when I signed it…”  Jane protested, her reading glasses slipping down her nose.

“Jane.  It doesn’t matter what you signed, because I didn’t sign anything.”  Darcy said.

“Why does that matter?”  Jane was still clinging to the papers, the tips of her fingers going white.

“Because, as your research assistant, I took the liberty of adding my name as a co-author.  You know, and I know, and S.H.I.E.L.D. knows, that I do nothing useful, so they never bothered to make me sign anything.  I don’t think they ever noticed, you know.” She held up her right arm, her soul marks covered by a plain black arm warmer.

“You… Oh my god.”  Jane seemed caught in between being horrified and delighted.

“I know.” Darcy said modestly, smirking.  “You love me.”

“Is that what this feeling is called…”  Jane mused, but she finally put the papers away and looked a little cheerful for the first time since they’d gotten off the plane.

Darcy had always liked Thor-- it was hard not to like Thor.  He was absolutely without guile, like a huge labrador puppy.  In a way, she had even liked it that he had left.  Though it had made Jane a little crazy, Darcy had needed some alone time with her girl to get emotionally ready to share.  Still, she resented him for not seeming as into Jane as she was into him, right up until they got to Stark Tower.

As soon as they walked in, Thor swept Jane up into one of those Hollywood kisses.  Complete with spinning.

“The two of you are like, disgusting, you’re so adorable.” Darcy commented, when the stars and bluebirds had cleared from around Jane’s head and she was ready for rational conversation again.

“Darcy!”  Thor boomed, pulling her in for a hug that was just as enthusiastic.

On the elevator up to their meeting with Stark, Thor and Jane were too busy devouring each other with their eyes or whatever for Jane to get nervous.  Once they were in the conference room, however, Darcy thought Jane was going to break her hand.

Tony Stark was actually in-person there, giving both of them an unimpressed once over from behind his red sunglasses.  

“Man of Iron!  May I present to you the Lady Jane, home of my soul.”  Bless him, he flourished at her like Vanna White.  

Tony’s smile at Thor, at least, seemed genuine.  “I see her, big guy, nice choice, very Helen of Troy.”

Darcy gave Jane an assessing look.  “I don’t think Jane is black enough.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow like he was thinking about asking, shook his head slightly, and ignored Darcy completely.

That set the tone for the rest of the day.  Tony showed Jane the labs, her new equipment, and in general talked only to Thor and Jane while giving Darcy an occasional ‘why the fuck are you here’ look.

It wasn’t really unusual.  Darcy was used to being the caboose on Jane’s genius train.  Her skills, while awesome, lay in other areas.  But by the third hour Darcy’s patience was starting to wear thin, and even Jane had started to pick up on it.

It was when Tony started showing them around their living space that things actually came to a head.

“So, where’s Darcy’s room?”  Jane interrupted Tony, who was waxing poetic about the espresso machine.

He blinked at her.  “...Why would Darcy have a room?  I’m not moving Darcy into my house.  No offense kid, I’m sure you’re lovely.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open, then closed, and her eyes narrowed.

“ _Oh shit_.”  Darcy whispered, and withdrew behind Thor.

“That.”  Jane hissed, pointing at Darcy, “is my _soulmate_.  She is non-negotiable.  She was written into every agreement we made for a reason.”  

She had started punctuating every word with a jab at Tony’s chest so violent that he brought his hands up to cover his arc reactor.  

“Hey, woah, what?”  He was backing up in the face of her wrath, looking so bewildered that Darcy actually felt bad for him.

“Hey, Jane-y Jane, it’s okay,” Darcy said, wrapping her arms around Jane’s waist.  “Tony didn’t know, _Tony is sorry_.”  She raise her eyebrows at him leadingly.

“Yes, absolutely, Tony is sorry.”  Tony repeated, holding his hands up placatingly.  “Tony was unaware that the three of you were putting the ‘try’ in triangle.  Although now Tony is confused because can’t you just share--hey!”

Jane started trying to hit Tony, and Darcy didn’t stop her.

 

After that, Tony started talking to Darcy.  He still gave her that ‘what are you doing here’ look, but it was more… assessing.  He was one of the few people in the tower old fashioned enough to still wear a cuff over his soul mark, like Darcy did.  She found herself wondering what he had under there.

They were leaning against one of the lab counters together after a particularly long night of science, staring at the coffee pot, when Tony finally addressed it.

“So, when are you going to show me what you’re working with Lewis?”  He said.  Darcy, head resting in her hands as she tried desperately not to fall asleep, just raised her eyebrows at him.  “When are you going to show me why you’re here.  Because you don’t seem like the type who just aimlessly follows her platonic girlfriend around.”

“What can I say.  As Jane goes, so goes my nation.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about Lewis.  You are not a scientist.  This,”  He gestured to encompass the sterile space of the lab space behind them, “is not where your heart is.”  He reached over to tap the fabric of the cuff covering her right arm.  “So why don’t you show me.”

Darcy gave him a long look, trying to figure out his agenda.  His face was tired.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”  Darcy responded, smiling at him cheekily.  Giving him an out, if he wanted to take at as innuendo instead of a serious offer.  She wasn’t really sure why she wanted to know.  Maybe just because he seemed lonely.

Tony stared at her, and then untied his cuff.  It was like looking at the layers of a tree.

 **Are you crazy, or just stupid?** _Sir, these numbers don’t match up._ Mr. Stark.

Darcy reached over and turned his arm a little in the light, taking in the different handwriting, the sizes.  The first two were neat and conservative.  The writing was dark and distinct, but not exaggerated.

The ‘Mr. Stark’ had letters almost two inches high.

“Huh.”  Darcy said, pursing her lips consideringly.  The first two struck her as Rhodey and Pepper, but the last one was about as ambiguous as it got.

A woman of her word, Darcy pushed her cuff down.  Tony smirked a little at Jane’s familiar handwriting, and then his face froze.

 _Aand this is why I keep it covered._  Darcy thought.  Seeing Tony look stricken was uncomfortable.  It was the look everyone gave her, once they knew.

“Jesus Lewis.  Can I hug you?  This seems like a time when people hug.”  He tried for a smile, and Darcy returned it with considerably more enthusiasm.

For someone with such an extensive reputation as a lady’s man, he gave a surprisingly stiff hug.  It crossed Darcy’s mind that sex might be the only way Tony knew how to get affection and touch.  When she thought of how much time she got to spend just lounging around with Jane, or Thor’s constant and easy physical affection, it seemed especially sad to think of Tony that way.

“I need to go to bed.”  Jane commented, when she shuffled into the kitchen to check on the coffee situation and found the two of them still embracing.

“Jane, we’re bonding, come bond.”  Darcy demanded, opening her free arm.

After that things were better.


	4. James

Darcy was, generally speaking, not in the loop of what happened with most of the Avengers.  She’d seem Natasha and Clint in the building a few times, but they’d never actually spoken to each other.  Banner and Jane were on-again-off-again science bros, so she saw him around, and Steve had politely shaken her hand one day while waiting to talk at Tony about something.

That relationship had some weird, unexamined tensions in it that were not really any of her business.

No one told her when things happened, but sometimes you could tell.  Tony would come back from a mission and for a few days the lab would be full of banging rock music and the smell of welding.  Or Thor and Jane would disappear for a few days.

Darcy had no idea what the others did after a bad one.

There had definitely been a bad one.  All she had to do was turn on the tv to know that.  Darcy was a Political Science major.  She knew how to read between the lines.

Even without knowing Steve well, it was obvious that whatever had gone down in DC had hit him particularly hard.  He seemed on edge, constantly moving.

When Darcy runs into him, they are both on their way out of the building.  Thor and Jane were off wherever doing their whatever, and she was bored enough to leave the tower.  Tony’s servers contained every movie in existence, and all of the computer games, and anything else a girl might need for entertainment, but even Darcy needed to emerge for some fresh air and sunlight once in a while.

“Hey Steve,”  She said, trying to be friendly.  Steve seemed really lonely sometimes, the way that Tony had seemed touch starved.

He gave her a distracted sort of smile.  “Hey, Darcy.”  The slight pause before her name would have been hurtful, but they’d only talked like, twice.  “Are you--”

Then he went completely still.  Following his gaze, Darcy saw him staring at a man on the sidewalk.  He was wearing an army jacket, hands in his pockets-- a normal enough guy.  His posture was somehow... threatening.  Both defensive and predatory at the same time.  

Instinctually Darcy moved behind Steve.

He snapped back to awareness.  “Darcy.  I need you to back into the building, okay?  Don’t turn around.  Don’t run.  Just walk slowly backwards--”

There was the harsh crack of a gunshot, and the man fell to the ground.

“Bucky!” Steve screamed, producing his shield from somewhere and sprinting out onto the sidewalk.  Bullets dinged off the curved surface and ricocheted into the crowd, who were screaming and scattering as the reality settled in.  

Steve was staring down at the man with an agonized look on his face, torn between going after the assassins and protecting him.

“Steve!  Bring him here!”  Darcy called out, her hand on the lobby door.  If they could just get him inside, he’d be safe.  One of the upgrades Tony had made when they rebuilt the tower the last time was that every piece of glass in the building was bullet proof.  Right now Darcy was blessing his paranoid little heart.

After a moment of indecision, Steve dragged the man into the lobby.  “Take care of him.”  He ordered in his Captain America voice, and then he sprinted off to do something heroic.

Darcy assumed that the security people had already had the good sense to call for medical help, but he was still bleeding pretty heavily.  They seemed to have shot him in the stomach.

Not sure what else to do, she pulled off her sweater and used it to put pressure on the wound.  Darcy had sort of forgotten to be afraid of him.  He was bleeding all over Tony’s marble lobby, it didn’t exactly scream threatening.

When the metal of his left arm clamped over Darcy’s wrist she twitched in surprise, changing her focus from the blood oozing between her fingers to the man’s face.  He stared at her with some of the coldest eyes she had ever seen.

“ _Stop._ ”  He commanded, squeezing her wrist for emphasis.  “Just let me die.”

Darcy had thought about it a lot.  What she was going to do when it happened, what she was going to say.  She was going to be calm, and in control.  She was going to comfort him.  She was not going to cry.  That was the most important part.

Before she opened her mouth to reply, Darcy was already crying.

“I can’t.  I won’t.  Don’t you ask me to, you son of a bitch, you are not dying on me right now.”  She gasped out, pressing down way too hard probably.  His grip on her arm went abruptly slack, and for a panicked moment Darcy thought he was dead.

But he’d only let go, staring at her.

“It says that.  On my arm.”  He said, his brow furrowed.

Dary leaned down, and without moving her hands, pulled the ties to her cuff with her teeth.  He watched it fall, taking in his own words on her skin.

Darcy felt like she was being examined in minute detail, his eyes darting over her hair, her glasses, the blood on her hands.

“I don’t know you.”  He grunted.

Darcy shrugged.  “I don’t know you either.  I’m Darcy.”

“...James.”  He said it with a little hesitation, like he wasn’t quite sure that was the right name.

“--Couldn’t get them all, but I think--”  Steve came barreling back into the lobby, taking in Darcy’s position and the complete lack of medical personnel.

“Get a medic down here.  NOW.”  He bellowed at one of the security people, who stammered some excuse about having already radioed for them.

“Buck.  Bucky.  Are you with me?”  Steve asked, his voice much more gentle now, putting his hand against the side of James’s face.  James made an uncertain expression.  Like he didn’t want to be touched, but thought that he should want it.

“...Steve.”  He said with a little difficulty.  He was still staring at her.

Darcy was actually having a hard time looking at him, that’s how bright Steve was smiling.  “Hey, Bucky.”

“Do you know Darcy?”  He asked.

Steve glanced at Darcy, puzzled.  “Um, yeah, I know Darcy.”

“She has my words.”  He said, and Steve stiffened.  When his eyes fastened onto Darcy’s arm, all the blood drained out of his face.

“Bucky.”  Steve said helplessly, aghast.  He looked at Darcy’s face, finally taking in the mess of mascara on her cheeks.  Her eyes were still running, the kind of silent crying that Darcy didn’t know how to stop.

“This is no way to treat a lady, punk.”  Steve joked, moving his hands slowly over James’s abdomen to take her place.  Free, Darcy sat back against the wall, aware that she was shaking.  Her bloody hands curled up like bird feet in her lap.

When the medics came for him, Steve let them take James but not Darcy.  He took Darcy up to his room and washed the blood off of her hands.  She felt like there was something wrong with her, like her eyes wouldn’t focus properly.  Steve seemed calm and capable though.  Darcy thought it would be okay to do what Steve told her.

Bundling her in one of his jackets, he had Darcy lay down in his bed with her feet propped up on a pillow.  At some point he’d taken her shoes off.

Steve put his hand on her forehead, like her mother checking a fever.  It was a comforting gesture.  She found herself leaning into it.

“You’re a little shocky, but I think you’ll be fine if you just sleep.  Bucky is going to be okay too, Darcy.  Thank you for… Thank you.”  Abruptly he pulled back his hand, running it through his hair.

“Get some sleep.  I’ll wake you if anything happens, I promise.”  Steve said.

That seemed like a good idea.  Darcy fell asleep to the smell of Steve and blood.


	5. Steve

When Darcy wakes up, someone has covered her with an afghan.  The blinds are open, letting in that dim light that only happens very early in the morning or right after the sun goes down.

It could be either.  She’s completely disoriented.

There’s not much in the room: A bookshelf with a little stack of frames leaning against it.  A leather couch framed by a warm red rug.

And Steve, sleeping sitting up in what looks like a very uncomfortable chair.

After having his suicide note on her arm her entire life, Darcy had always expected her soulmate to die.  She hadn’t spent much time on what to do if he _didn’t_.

She tries to remember his face, but her memories of yesterday have a warped quality to them, like photographs dropped in water.  What comes to the surface are colors.  His blood had been bright red on Tony’s white marble floor. He’d had blue eyes.  His name was James, and she’d put pressure on the place where someone had shot him in the stomach with her favorite purple sweater.

She’d have to throw that away now.  No matter how her mother swore by meat tenderizer to get out blood stains, Darcy didn’t think something like that could be salvaged.

The thought of washing her soulmate’s blood out of her clothes with meat tenderizer made Darcy feel kind of hysterical.  Which made her feel ashamed.  She had tased the God of Thunder, and helped evacuate a town, and fought those weird elf things-- Darcy was usually good in a crisis.

She remembered Steve washing her hands off last night while she was being completely useless, and winced.

With this in mind, she tried to slip out of the room.  Steve apparently has some ridiculous super soldier hearing though, because he’s up and staring at her as soon as her feet hit the floor.

“Hey,” Darcy said, waving her hand at him awkwardly.  The whole thing had a very morning-after feel, and she wished he would stop looking at her so she could get the walk of shame part over with already.

“Hey!” Steve said, seeming to snap out of something.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up by yourself in a strange room.  I know things like that can be really disorienting.”  He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, “But then I fell asleep.  Long night.”

“...Yeah.  How’s James?”  Darcy said.  It’s odd to say a stranger’s name like that, as if they already have intimacy.  

Steve’s forehead wrinkled.  “Ah, Bucky? He’s good, we-- he heals fast.  Should be on his feet in a few days.  I know he’d like to see you.”

There was something about the way Steve said it that made Darcy feel like that might not be true.

“I want to clean up. Um.  Before I do that.”  Darcy said, gesturing down her body to her slept in clothes.  She doesn’t even want to think about how awful her hair must be in the face of Steve’s All-American perfection.  He’d been sleeping sitting up and his shirt still has all its creasing intact.  He had to be an alien.

Steve nodded, turning his wrist to check the time on his watch.  Because he was the sort of human being that would own a watch.  “It’s still pretty early.  I’ll stop by your room at 5 tonight, we’ll all have dinner.”  It comes out as more of an order than a request.  It’s not his Captain America voice, exactly, but he’s holding his jaw strangely.  Like he’s gearing up for a fight.

Darcy hopes it’s not with her, because Steve looks like a man who knows how to dig his heels in.


	6. Bucky

The shower feels like a cleansing ritual, as if Darcy’s sweating out everything that happened yesterday.  Maybe farther back than yesterday.

When she gets dressed, for the first time in her life, she leaves her arm uncovered.  There’s the faintest tan line, a handhold of darker skin on her bicep.  It’s okay for everyone to see her words now.  They’re not a curse anymore.  

This is probably how other people feel all the time, she realized.  When they looked at their soulmarks.  All those mundane or romantic words-- a greeting, an apology, a compliment.   _It’s lovely to meet you_ or _I’m sorry miss, you dropped this_ or _I didn’t know you’d be so beautiful._  What would it have meant to her, if Darcy had worn words like that?

 _I wouldn’t have been ready._  Darcy thinks, and it feels true.  She would have imagined what Jane and Thor had (well, with less aliens), something like a romantic comedy where they lived happily ever after.  Darcy wouldn’t have carried a taser, or learned CPR.  And yeah, she wouldn’t have gotten plastered at dive bars, or cried herself to sleep, or had to see a therapist-- but now she thought that maybe she’d needed those things too, to be ready for what James was.

Darcy brought her arm to her lips, and kissed it.

 

There is a fourth person at the table that night, and his name is Bucky.

Steve can’t help himself.  He knows he’s dominating the conversation--Darcy can see it in his face-- talking enough for the three of them, but it’s like he _can not_ stop.  “Do you remember the time that we--” is the start of every sentence out of his mouth.

Sometimes, very rarely, there is a spark of recognition in James-- as if he might remember.  Mostly he just watches Steve distantly, like a man at the theater.  Darcy finds herself adopting almost the same attitude.  

It’s not that the stories aren’t interesting, or funny.  She likes Steve, she likes this Bucky person he’s describing… she’d just not sure if James is that person.  Bucky doesn’t sound like the type to ask her to let him bleed to death.

Maybe he could be that person again someday, though.

There’s a long lull in the conversation, and Darcy looks up to see Steve staring at her arm with its two loops of words.

“I’m sorry.”  He says immediately, looking down to poke at his dinner.  They’re in his rooms, eating pasta with a sauce he made from scratch.

“No, it’s fine, go ahead.”  She says, holding her arm out to him.  Jane’s words wrap clockwise around her wrist in a neat bracelet, while Bucky’s are a jagged corkscrew that winds all the way to her elbow.  Steve touches a finger to her wrist.

“Is this Jane?”  He asks, and then shakes his head.  “Of course it is, I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.”

Darcy smiles, because it’s _Jane_.  “Yeah, that’s Jane.  Mine says ‘Hold on, I think I can fix this’, it’s like a setup for our entire relationship.”

Steve laughed.  “Yeah, I feel like that’s what happened with mine.  Well.  I’m still looking for number three.  Maybe.”

He rolled up his sleeve, and Darcy would know James’s handwriting anywhere.  Steve’s arm reminds her of Tony’s in a way, his first two marks intertwining with each other as they coil around his forearm.   **You must really like getting punched.**  And then, like it was written with a calligraphy pen, _Did you have something against running away?_  

The last one just said CAPTAIN.  There was something blocky about the letters, almost like they’d been typed.  Maybe it was because it was so short, just one word, that this mark seemed so large and bold.  The other two seemed like a part of Steve, while this one was somehow a little fractious.

He touched the more elegant letters.  “This was Peggy.  I’m not sure about the third one.  A lot of people have called me ‘Captain’.”  He shrugged.  “Maybe they died in the war.  Or maybe not.  No way to know, really.  But it’s the reason I never gave up enlisting.  I knew I was going to be a Captain.  Bucky used to tease me about it though, said maybe I’d just be the Captain of the ferry to Staten Island.”

He got that fond look he’d had all night when he talked about Bucky.  Like he was Steve’s Jane.  Not perfect, but perfect for him.

“Hey, Buck, you should show Darcy her words.  I don’t think she’s seen them yet.”  Steve suggested, glancing over at James.  “I was always worried about those, but Bucky liked them.  Said you sounded like a spitfire, and he was sure you’d pull him through.  We always kinda thought you’d be a nurse.”

For once, James seemed interested in the conversation.  He's wearing a skintight sheath over his right arm, and when he rolls it down Darcy wants to laugh.

Steve’s words were another loopy bracelet, _I didn’t ask for you to jump in_.  

Darcy’s words take up the entire rest of his arm, all the way to his shoulder.  They would have taken up a lot of space no matter what because there were so many of them, but apparently she had wanted to make sure she got her point across.  They were cut into his skin with her messiest, sharpest handwriting.   **I can’t.  I won’t.  Don’t you ask me to, you son of a bitch, you are not dying on me right now.**

Darcy wondered what staring at those words had done to him.  If he’d thought he needed to be a hellion, or a hero, to be loved.


	7. The Black Widow

After laying sleepless for a few hours, Darcy gives up.  “J.A.R.V.I.S, could you tell me if James Barnes is still awake?”  Her voice sounds loud in quiet dark of her bedroom

“He is.”  J.A.R.V.I.S said, the volume of his voice lower than usual, modulated for the hour.  “Would you like me to direct you to his present location, Miss Lewis?”

“...Yeah, hang on.”  She said, pulling a sweater on over her tank top.  “Okay.”

“Please follow the floor lights until you reach your destination.”

Along the walls little blue LEDs blink on and off like a Christmas tree, and as Darcy follows them she feels a little like this is magic.  It’s just technology, Tony’s design, but in the dark they are something from a fairy tale.

The closed door at the end of the hall is all too real.  Staring at it Darcy is a child again, barefoot in her pajamas outside of her parent’s bedroom after a nightmare.  Afraid to knock, and afraid to leave.

The decision is made for her when James opens the door.   _He must have heard my footsteps_ , Darcy thinks, a little unsure in the face of this blank stranger.

“Hi.  I can’t sleep, and J.A.R.V.I.S said you were awake too, so.  I thought we could hang out or something.”  Darcy said, holding up her hand in what was maybe intended to be a wave.  She felt uncomfortably exposed, standing outside of his room at 3 am like some crazy ex.

James's eyes darted up to the ceiling at this.  “If you don’t want J.A.R.V.I.S to tell me stuff like that, you can ask him not to.”  She told him.

They were both still standing in the doorway, and Darcy wanted to either come in or go back to her room and hide under her covers in humiliation.  “So, can I come in, or do you want me to go away?”  She blurts out, and James gives her a long, considering look.  He’s still wearing the same clothes he’d had on at dinner, dark blue slacks and a white button up shirt-- like he doesn’t have any other clothes, or the concept of changing into something more comfortable is foreign to him.

He steps back, and lets her in.

 

When she wakes up her head is in James’s lap, his hands in her hair.  The screen is black, like the movie ended hours ago and he’s just been staring at it.

 

It becomes a strange sort of pattern for them.  Darcy doesn’t know when he sleeps.  If he sleeps.  He always seems to be awake, constantly aware of his surroundings.  There are times when he jerks his head to stare at something-- the shadow of movement on the wall, a sound she can’t hear-- and he’ll tighten his grip on whatever part of her is nearest to him.  Fists a hand in her hair, grabs her wrist.  Darcy never struggles, and he doesn’t hurt her.  It’s more like he’s making sure he has her, if he needs to fight or run.

She lets him initiate all their physical contact, and it’s always things like this.  If she falls asleep on the couch, in his bed, she wakes up in a position that he must have moved her into, but he’s not casual with his touch.

Darcy isn’t sure what usually happens during the day, if he stays with Steve, or sleeps the way he can’t seem to at night.  But one day when she walks into the kitchen it looks like someone has been cooking, and James is at the counter.  He looks a more relaxed than usual, something about his face less tight.  He has a plate of round rolls in front of him, one already in his hand.

“What’re you eating?”  Darcy asked, giving the bread big anime eyes.  She had rarely met a carbohydrate she didn’t like, and this did not smell like an exception.  It smells like yeast, cheese, and spices.

James gave her a sidelong glance, and held it out to her.  “Pirozhki.”  He said.  Darcy took an experimental bite.  It was stuffed with sunflower seeds, mushrooms, and some kind of crumbly cheese that was warm and soft.  Her eyes wide, Darcy tried to clutch the roll with both hands.  He moved his hand back, looking almost amused.  “Oh my god.  What is happening inside my mouth right now.”

James didn’t let her have the pirozhki, but when Darcy leaned forward to take another bite he didn’t stop her.

“What  _is_  this, where has this magical food been all my life.”  Darcy demanded.  She stopped trying to take it, letting her hands rest on his wrist.  When she opened her mouth, he gave the rest of the roll to her, his fingers resting against her lips.  She wondered what would happen if she licked them.

“It’s been in Russia.”  A woman’s voice said behind her, and Darcy turned to see the Black Widow standing in the doorway with Steve, watching them.  Steve looked strange, like he was happy and a little heartbroken at the same time.  But he smiled.

“Hey Buck, smells good.  Darcy.”  He said, nodding a greeting.  At her name, the Widow’s head jerked.  She gave Steve a long, burning look, and walked out of the room.  Steve glanced from Natasha to Darcy, his smile fading.  “Um.  Hold on, okay?”  He told them, and followed her.

Darcy raised her eyebrows at James, who looked as clueless as she felt.  “Well, that was weird.”  She commented.  “I--”

James held up a hand, silencing her.  “I can hear them.”  He said.  And then grimaced.

“What?  What’re they saying?”  Darcy asked, wishing she was Tony so she could just have J.A.R.V.I.S play the audio from the other room.

“Nothing that’s not true.”  He said, and didn't explain.


	8. Clint

 If it hadn’t been for James, Darcy wouldn’t have noticed that someone was following her.  

It takes her a while to notice even  _with_  James.  There were always things that seemed to startle him, but now it's constant.  When Darcy is with him, it seems like he’s always staring at the ceiling, his hand glued to her wrist.

Before, after a moment, when he realized that nothing was there, he’d let her go.  But he doesn’t do that anymore.  

If that had been all there was to it, Darcy might have dismissed the idea, but sometimes she thinks that she can hear something too.  Nothing she would have usually picked up on, or thought much about-- just the occasional noise from something in the ceiling when it’s quiet.

The next time she hears it, Darcy’s reading a book on the couch in her bedroom alone.  She takes a chance.  “I know you’re in there.”  Darcy tells the ceiling.  “So you might as well come down.”

There is a long pause, in which Darcy starts to question if being around James too much has made her paranoid.

Then the ceiling starts talking back.

“You’re sharper than I thought.”  It says.

“Why are you following me?”  Darcy asks, putting her book down to stare at the heating vent.

The man sighed.  “Look, this was not my idea.”

“Okay, cool, not what I asked.  Why are you following me.”  And god, even though she’d been pretty sure there was someone in the vents watching her, having it confirmed is a whole other thing.  Darcy wished she’d done this with James-- but, then again, he’d  _known_ this man was up there, and he hadn’t done anything.

“How much do you know about Barnes?”  He asks, and he doesn’t sound defensive, or accusing, just curious.  Maybe that’s why she answers honestly.

“Not that much.  If he wants me to know, he’ll talk about it.”  Darcy said, shrugging.  

“See, that’s weird to me.”  The man admitted, and she heard a little scrape from the vent, like he was getting more comfortable.

“What good is it going to do for me to know?”  Darcy asked him, wondering if he had an answer.  When she’d asked Steve the same question, he had just looked at her with eyes that didn’t know if they were sad or angry, and hadn’t said anything else about the Winter Soldier.

“People died.”  The man replied conversationally.

“I know that.”

One of the ceiling tiles popped off to land on the carpet, and a blond man lowered himself to the floor.  He was handsome in a rough way that was unusual in the tower but common in the SHIELD agents she’d seen.  Strangely, he had some kind of guard on his left arm, while his right was completely bare.  In a straight line up his forearm were the words  _Take the shot._

He offered his hand, and Darcy took it.  “Clint.”  He said, then settled onto the couch next to her, his legs spread in a lounge that looked almost uncomfortable.

“He could kill you.”  Clint said, still sounding weirdly casual about it.  

Darcy snorted.  “At this point that could describe almost everyone I know.”

He nods, conceding the point.  “There was a discussion, and it was decided that you should not be alone with him.”

“Wow, nice passive vocabulary.”  Darcy says, putting it together in her mind.  “So.  Steve, or the Black Widow?”

Clint made a flip-flop gesture with his hand. 

Darcy nodded.  “Clint?”

He raised his eyebrows at her inquisitively.  

“Stop following me.”

“Yeah, okay.”  He muttered, and left.

 

James didn’t seem to trust that no one was there anymore.  He kept letting Darcy go, only to grab some part of her again, staring at the ceiling suspiciously.  It was making her tired.  

She settled herself onto his lap and he barely reacted, adjusting his grip on her wrist so that her arm could rest on his leg above her head.  “I told him to leave.”  Darcy said.

James looked down.  “You noticed him.”

“Kinda hard not to when you’ve been staring at the ceiling every five minutes.”  Darcy said, yawning.  “Why’d you let him do that?”

James was checking the ceiling for stray Clints again.  “Because they’re right.  It’s not safe.”

“Obviously, I feel very threatened.”  Darcy murmured, trying to block out the light by pressing her face to his leg.

At this point James seemed to notice her position, and made a face she’d never seen on him before.  “Are you serious.”  She said, and covered her eyes with her free arm so she didn’t have to look at him.  “I am trying to nap here, don’t make it dirty.”

“What?”  He asked, confused.

“Your face had connotations.  This is not a sexy head-in-lap moment, James, this is a sleepy moment.”

“So go to sleep.”  James said, starting to run his fingers through her hair.

“How can I, you’re like as comfortable as a board right now.  Stop being all weird and tense.”  Darcy muttered, but she was already starting to drift off.

 

She woke up a little when someone shifted her, and she heard voices.

“--violent.” Steve was saying.  Darcy rolled over to hide her face in James’s stomach, her arms wrapped around his waist.

There was a long pause.  “I don’t sleep when she’s here.”  James replied, his voice very quiet, like he was trying not to wake her.

“Ever?  Because one of these times, you’re going to fall asleep Bucky, and she’s not strong enough.”  Steve had lowered his voice to match James’s tone.  

“I know that.”  James said, workings the tangles out of Darcy’s hair with his fingers.

Then neither of them spoke for so long that Darcy almost fell asleep before Steve replied.

“Just… be careful with her.”  He said, in that same too-soft voice.  There was a ghost of a touch on her face, and the room went quiet again.


	9. Bruce

 

Steve corners Darcy the next day on her way to work.

Jane is telling some Thor story that involves the destruction of a wall while completely naked.  She’s making expansive gestures, slopping some of the coffee from her mug, and Darcy is laughing more at  _this_ than the story, when they bump into Steve.  He gives the two of them a polite, unfocused smile, and then seems to realize who it is.

“Darcy!  Good, just who I was looking for.  Dr. Foster, you don’t mind if I borrow your assistant for a few minutes?”  He’s talking to Jane, but his eyes are focused on Darcy.  She remembers the half a conversation she’d overheard last night, and has the sinking feeling that she knows what this talk is going to be about.

Jane shoots Darcy an inquiring glance.  She shrugs.  “Ah… Sure, Captain.  As long as I get her back in like-new condition.”  Jane says, giving Steve a long stare.  He looks a little surprised.

Darcy follows him in silence for a little while, but she can’t really hold it back for long.  “So, finally decided to talk to me instead of arranging a bunch of shit behind my back?”

Steve at least had the good grace to look uncomfortable.  

“I’m sorry if… I know how this looks.  But are you…”  He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I have concerns about your safety.”

“And I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I would appreciate it  _more_ if you didn’t turn me into The Girl Who Irrationally Stares At Ceiling Vents.”

Steve nodded, opening a door for her.  “I know.  I want to explain.”

It looked like a conference room, with a massive television on one wall, but at least the chairs are comfortable.  Steve still managed to look stiff in his, sitting so straight that he didn’t let his back touch the seat.

“Darcy, I’m not trying to discourage you from spending time with Bucky.  I… think you’re really good for him.  But you need to understand that he can be pretty unstable.  He tends to disassociate, especially when he’s woken unexpectedly.” He closed his eyes.  “He can be violent.”

“It’s normal to have flashbacks.  And nightmares.”  Darcy said, thinking of James sitting up all night staring at the wall.

Steve made a frustrated noise.  “Darcy, if that’s all it was…”  He did something strange with his face, like he was bracing for a hit.  “J.A.R.V.I.S, please play the video.”

The huge tv turned itself on, showing security camera footage of a room Darcy didn’t recognize.  It didn’t quite look like a gym, but there were pads on the floor-- where James was sleeping.  Steve was sitting nearby, reclined against a wall with a book.

And then, something happened to James-- a sound, something in his dream startling him-- and he was up, on top of Steve in a second.  Darcy thought there was a moment when he was just trying to restrain Steve.  Maybe even protect him.  But Steve reacted with the instincts of a soldier.

At the first blow, Darcy flinched, her hands covering her mouth.

After a few minutes, Steve had James pinned, his knees digging into his upper arms.  “Bucky,” He says, a little out of breath but still sounding calm.  “It’s February 6th.  You’re in Stark Tower with me.  There is no one else in this room.  We are both safe right now.”

James seemed to be focusing a little now, although there was still a strange look in his eyes.  Like he’s looking through everything.  Steve repeats himself a few more times, using James's full name, and slowly the tension drains out of him.  

“Hey Steve.”  He says, giving him a quick smile that makes Darcy’s eyes well because it’s so self-deprecating.  So sad.

“Hey, Bucky.”  Steve says, his smile huge.  He climbs off of him and offers a hand.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, stop the feed.”  Steve says.  He hasn’t been watching the tape, he’s been watching  _her,_ and Darcy is suddenly self conscious about her wet eyes, the way she’d brought her hands to her mouth.

“I just wanted you to understand what he’s like.”  Steve says, looking away.  “I’ll take you back to Jane now.”

Darcy  _does_  understand, but probably not in the way he wanted her to.

 

It’s a Bruce day in the lab.  He and Jane have this weird bromance going on, and sometimes he seems to show up just from the company.  Today he’s writing in a spiral notebook, pressing so hard that he breaks the tip off of his pen.  He blinks down at it like he’s surprised.

“Hey Bruce,”  Darcy said, watching him struggle to free a new pen from his lab coat pocket, “What’s the best thing to do around the Hulk?  I mean, for like a normal person?”

“I think, for someone like you,” Bruce paused, tapping the pen against his mouth, “It would be best to play dead.”

“...Are you a bear?”  Darcy asked, raising her eyebrows.

Bruce smiled wryly.  “No.  But you’re not the kind of person that the Hulk would consider to be threatening.  I don’t think that he’d intentionally target you.”

“Hmm.  So hey, can you teach me some of that meditation stuff sometime?”

 

For a while, nothing new happens.  They go back to their routine.

And then Darcy shows up at his room and finds James already asleep, lying on the floor near the door.  His face looks different like this, younger.  Maybe it’s just that he’s not tense for once.

Darcy goes into his bedroom and pulls the blankets from his bed.  She curls up next to him.

She’s comfortable and warm, snuggled against his side, when the nightmare comes.  

His body goes tense, and then she’s on her back with her hands pinned above her head in a hard grip.

 _Play dead._ Darcy thinks, and it’s really not that hard.  He’s never hurt her.  She takes one of those slow, circular breaths that Bruce had been talking about, and relaxes completely.  

There was that moment in the video, before Steve had reacted, when Darcy had thought that James wasn’t really being  _violent._ Just easily startled.

And… while he holds her down, and he’s sitting her on thighs in a way that is definitely restraining her, he’s breathing hard.  Like he’s afraid.

His eyes are open, and he’s looking at her, but not as if he sees her.  Licking her lips nervously, Darcy whispers his name.  He jerks, his grip tightening a little.  She tries again.

“James.  It’s Wednesday, March 13th.  You’re in Stark Tower.”  She says, her voice quiet and calm.  “We’re in your rooms.  There is no one here but you and me.  We’re both safe right now.”

She can feel him slowly start to relax as she repeats it, his eyes coming more and more into focus.

Then he takes a deep breath, and looks at her like he can see her again.

“Darcy,”  He said, taking in their positions, the way he’s holding her down. And he gives her that same smile he’d given Steve in the video-- the one that says that he hates himself.

It’s too much.  She leans up and kisses him.  For a moment she’s afraid that it’s the wrong thing to do-- he goes completely still above her, frozen with his eyes still open.

But then he closed his eyes and kissed her back, fiercely.  

Darcy curled her fingers around his hands, trying to show him any way she can that she wants this.  Her body is saying it, but James lives inside skin that doesn’t always listen to him.  He might not trust that she wants this without more.

Darcy had never believed in ‘saving’ herself for a dead man, and for a long time, she had been a ‘for a good time call’ kind of girl.  It had taught her how to enjoy herself without giving too much away.  So she wouldn’t usually arch her hips against his weight, or gasp when he starts kissing her throat.  She wouldn’t want to give him that much power over her.  But with James it feels different.  It feels natural.

“ _What are you doing_.”  James whispered, his forehead resting on her neck.  Darcy’s not sure if he’s talking to her or to himself, but she answers him anyway.

“Not everything has to be complicated.”  Darcy murmured, squeezing his hands.  “Stop trying to protect me.  I don’t need that.”

“You wouldn’t want…”  James started, hesitating, glancing to where he still held her down.

Darcy raised her eyebrows.  “James, I hate to shatter your illusions, but this isn’t my first rodeo.  I’m a big girl.  I know how to say no.”

He kissed her again, and there was something different in it this time.  Maybe it was relief.


	10. Pepper

When Darcy walks into the lab with a hickey and a shit eating grin the next morning, Jane hugs her.

“Ooh, Things Have Occurred.”  She whispered, giving every word its due emphasis.  Darcy nodded, trying to look like less of an idiot, but she was the kind of happy that was like being high.  It was impossible to push it down.

“Not all of the things.  But some things.”  She agreed.

They were both in a middle school haze all morning, making eye contact across the room and giggling.  It felt immature in the best way, like a first crush before you realized that the words on both of your arms were a promise that you weren’t meant to be.  It was the first time that Darcy had ever entered a relationship with a sense of hope, and she was _giddy_.

When James shows up to take her to lunch, he looks just as stupid.  

“Hi.”  he said, taking Darcy’s hands and kissing them.  She smiled up at him.  “Hi.”  She said, and heard Jane making gagging noises behind her.  

Darcy pointed an accusing finger.  “You are exactly this disgusting with Thor.  Possibly more disgusting.”

Jane shrugged, not at all abashed.  “It’s possible.  You’re still making me sick with your heart-eyed infatuation.”

Darcy’s not exactly dreading seeing Steve, but when James waves him over to their table there’s a prickling in her stomach.  Steve seems surprised to see him in the cafeteria, and in a good mood, but he’s willing to take it at face value.

Then he freezes, staring at her.  “Darcy,”  he said in a dangerous voice, “What happened to your wrist?”

Instantly, everyone’s eyes are focused on her, and Darcy glances down to see a small bruise like a thumbprint.  Surrounded by four others.  She blushed.  “Oh!  I kind of gave myself that.”

Jane snickered.

“You bruised your own wrist.”  Steve said, looking disappointed.  “Darcy… Don’t lie to me about this.”

“I’m not.”  She protested, and she could see that he didn’t believe her, that he was about to dig his heels in for something that didn’t need to be a fight.  “Please don’t do this.”

But he’d set his jaw.  “Bucky, what do you know about this?”  He asked, in that same scary soft voice.

James looked surprised, and then uncomfortable.  “Ah… kinda private, pal.”  He said, smiling awkwardly.

Steve looked between the two of them, and sighed.  “Fine.  I didn’t want to have to do this, but.  I guess I’ll ask Tony to pull the security footage.”

“ _Steve._ ”  Darcy hissed, but he was already up and walking out the door.  “Son of a bitch.”  She muttered, and ran after him.

She was surprised when James followed her.

“What?  You said my name.”  He said, taking her hand with a grin.

 

Tony was lounging in his bathrobe with Pepper, obviously involved in morning plans that did _not_ include leaving his suite, but whatever Steve had said must have been pretty convincing.  He and Pepper both gave James an accusing stare, and then seemed to reconsider.  Darcy looks pissed, but her fingers are interlaced with James’s, and he looks uncomfortable and a little smug.  

Tony raised his eyebrows at Darcy, and she raised hers back.  Pepper, watching the exchange, went from concerned outrage to amusement.

“Cap, maybe you don’t really want to see this.  It might be, you know, _private_.”  Tony said meaningfully.

Steve shook his head.  “I’m sure that they think so, but I need to know.  This is very serious, Tony.”

“Alright, it’s your extremely uncomfortable funeral.”  Tony muttered, quirking his mouth apologetically at Darcy.  She shrugged, still wishing this could be avoided but seeing now that it can’t be.  It seems better to get it over with.

J.A.R.V.I.S queued up the security footage from when Darcy first entered James’s room and found him sleeping on the floor.  She squatted down to look at him for a moment, then left the room.  When she returned with an armful of blankets, Steve shook his head.

“Oh, Darcy.” Steve said, his voice heavy with disappointment.  “After we…  J.A.R.V.I.S, can you skip forward to the next time either of them is awake or showing signs of movement?”

The beginning looks as bad as Darcy thought it would-- Even Tony goes tense when James slams her arms above her head, his face blank and eyes glassy.  She starts repeating his name, and where they are, and Steve’s eyes go wide.  

When they start kissing, he flinched visably.  Their conversation is quiet enough to sound like whispers on the video, but when James bites her neck, Darcy’s moan is definitely audible.  James shifts his grip so that his metal arm holds both of her wrists, and covers her mouth with the other hand.

“Woah.”  Tony said, watching Darcy arch up against James as he nuzzles her jugular.  “Get it, Lewis.”

James cracked up, and Darcy shoved him.  “Oh my god, you’re both such assholes.  Can we stop doing this now?”

Steve stood up looking flushed, and walked out of the room.  She sighed, and followed him.

He hadn’t gotten very far.  He was leaning his head against the wall just outside the doorway.  Darcy reached out to touch him on the arm.  “Steve…” She said softly, and he startled.  His eyes went to the bruise on her wrist, then up to her neck, and his face caught on fire.

“I…” He started, then swallowed and looked down.  He seemed to fare better when he didn’t have to look at her.  “I’m sorry.  It was inappropriate.  I shouldn’t have…”  He shook his head, not sure where to start.

“Steve, do you need a hug?”  She asks, because _god_ this man never seems to relax-- and when she thinks about it, she doesn’t know who he has in this place.  There’s James, but he’s not exactly a restful and supportive presence at the moment, especially for Steve.

“Ah...What?”  Steve says, something in his expression cringing, like he’s expecting her to yell at him.  And that decides her.

“Yep, I’m hugging you.”  She announced, and does it.  He’s too tall for her to put her arms around his neck, so she goes for his waist, and it’s exactly like hugging Tony.  Like he wants the contact but doesn’t know how to accept it, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

“I know that you mean well.”  She says, her face a little muffled by his chest.  “You’re a good man, Steve, but I think we’re working off of entirely different playbooks here.  I’m not a damsel in distress.  If I need help, I know I can come to you, and that seriously does mean a lot to me-- but I don’t want you to help unless I ask for it, okay?”

“I-- yeah.  I was high handed.  I thought that you weren’t taking the situation seriously, and I over-reacted.  I think… you understand it better than I do.  I’ve been making him worse.”  The last sentence is like a whisper.

“Steve.”  Darcy says, leaning back to look him in the eyes, her hand resting on his hips.  “It’s a fucked up situation.  No one really knows what to do.  He knows you love him.”

Steve avoided her eyes.  “I-- Yeah.”  He agreed, and Darcy could almost see him shut down.  He gently disentangled himself, and she let him go.

Darcy turned to see Pepper watching from from the doorway with a speculative look on her face.  Even in her bathrobe she managed to seem elegant.

“Well,”  Pepper said, “ _That_ was interesting.”

 


	11. Rhodey

When Darcy gets off work, Tony is waiting outside her door with a bottle of scotch.

“Hey Lewis.  Wanna get drunk?”  He said without preamble, holding up two glasses.  Darcy considered everything that had happened today.

“God yes.”  She said fervently, and they went inside her rooms and sat on the floor.   The tumblers he’d brought had weight to them, like they were something other than glass, and the tink of the bottle against the rim made a high, clear sound.  It felt very fancy.

“I have started without you, so you’ll need to catch up.”  Tony informed her.  

Darcy shrugged.  “Fair enough.”  She said, and threw back the two fingers he’d poured her in one swallow.  It left an aftertaste in her mouth like honey and almonds.

Tony poured her another two fingers like it was a challenge, and she knocked it back.

“I have never been so attracted to you.”  Tony told her.  “And that is saying something after this morning, because damn.”

“Tony, I’m not drunk enough to have this conversation with you.”  Darcy said, holding out her glass for more.  “And if you finished watching that security footage after I left the room--”

“Stopped watching it immediately, scout’s honor.”  He swore, holding up three fingers.

“Three fingers is for Girl Scouts, Tony.”

“Oh,  _is_  it.”  He said, waggling his eyebrows.  Darcy gave him a bored stare.  

“Okay, fair enough, that was not my best work.”  He admitted.  They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping the scotch at a more reasonable pace.  Darcy was considering suggesting they put on a movie when Tony said, “Pepper’s getting married.” and emptied his glass.

“Ah-- what, seriously?”  Darcy thought back to this morning, with the bathrobes and the obvious morning-of-sex vibe, and was deeply confused.  “You guys seemed good, who…?”

“Happy.”  Tony said, and then seeing Darcy’s blank look, explained.  “Her other soulmate, um, he’s my driver/bodyguard type thing.  This morning was kind of our last hurrah, as it were.”

“Well, this morning just got  _way_  more awkward for me.”  Darcy observed.  “I did not think that could be done.”

Tony snorted, staring at his scotch glass like it was a pile of tea leaves.  “You think it was awkward for you, try being Rogers.  He awkwarded so hard.  All of our awkward combined could not out awkward his awkward.”

Darcy sighed, rubbing her eyebrow with her free hand.  “Yeah.  Poor Steve.  I wanted to be pissed at him, but he looked like someone just drowned his puppy or something.”

“Yeah, gotta be honest here Lewis, that was like, weirdly intense for someone who just found out his soulmate  _wasn’t_ abusing his girl.  Are the two of them…”  Tony paused, looking for the right words.  He didn’t find them.

“I don’t know.  I mean, James’s memory is kind of spotty...  And I feel like if I ask Steve he’ll crawl into the deepest possible denial hole.  But there’s definitely weirdness.”

“Hmm,”  Tony said, settling back against the wall with his legs splayed.  “Would it be a problem for you, if they were?”

“Well, I guess I won’t actually know until something happens,”  Darcy said, looking at her soulmarks, “But, I don’t think so.  Like, I felt kind of jealous with Jane and Thor, but I got over it.  It’s not just about me, anyways.”

Tony gave her an assessing look.  “I think you mean that.”  He said slowly, and hooked an arm around her shoulders.  “You’re good people, Lewis.  Let’s get drunk together more often.”

“Why Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?”  Darcy fluttered her eyelashes, and Tony grinned.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed, but I get the impression that your guy’s a little... possessive.” He flicked her wrist, and Darcy started laughing.  It went on a little too long.

“Woah.  Breath, Lewis.”  Tony said, rubbing her shoulder.  He was pressing on a knot, and Darcy leaned into it.  She was generally tactile, but when she was drinking Darcy was like a really affectionate cat rubbing its head against everyone.

Tony dug his thumb into her shoulder muscle obligingly.  “So, is it cool if Rhodey comes by later, or is this a private party?”

Darcy shrugged, which only added to the massage.  “Sure.  Hey, can we invite Clint?”

Tony paused in his ministrations, raising his eyebrows.  “Barton?  Why him?”

“Well, we can’t invite anyone else.   Jane is white girl wasted after like one beer, I don’t really want to get the Hulk tipsy, and no one else is actually able to get drunk.”  Darcy said, ticking them off on her fingers.

“ _Thor_  can’t get drunk?”  Tony asked, looking as if all of his beliefs were being challenged.

“Well, not off of  _this.”_  Darcy swirled her scotch.“I don’t know if we’d want him anyway, there tends to be nudity.  I mean, I’m a fan, but possibly others are not.”

“I... could be a fan.”  Tony said, obviously creating a mental picture.

“You. Don’t. Even. Know.”  Darcy said, and finished her glass.

“Barton has  _no_ taste.”  Tony complained.  “He will drink like, prison wine.  This will be completely wasted on him.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.  “Then make him bring his own booze.”

“Fine,”  Tony grumbled, and pulled out his phone.  It chimed with a text back almost immediately, and he raised his eyebrows.

“He says, ‘Bringing rum, thanks for invite, tell Darcy I’m still sorry about the thing’.  What is ‘the thing’?”  Tony refilled Darcy’s glass, and she held it up in thanks.

“Oh, he was ceiling creeping on me for Steve for like, a week.”  She announced, taking a sip.  Tony whistled, long and low.

“I never thought that I’d say this, but… I am feeling very well adjusted in comparison to Captain America.”  Tony looked a little disturbed by that possibility.

Darcy tilted her head.  “Yeah, me too actually.”

They tapped their glasses together in a mini toast.

 

When Rhodey showed up, Darcy and Tony had already worked their way through two bottles of very good scotch.  Clint had brought a gallon of the worst rum that Darcy had ever tasted, which they were happy to leave him to finish alone.

“...I think I need some context.”  Rhodey said, taking in the sight of Darcy drinking scotch straight from the bottle with a straw, sitting between Clint’s thighs while he did her hair in a series of elaborate braids.  Tony was painting his toenails with a look of intense concentration.  “Is that fire engine red?”

“It’s Iron Man red, Rhodey, why would you even ask me that question.”  Tony said, without looking up.

“We have Iron Patriot colors too.”  Darcy told him.  Rhodey considered this, shrugged, and started to take off his shoes.  Tony held up his free hand in a fist, and Rhodey bumped it.

Darcy noticed his soulmark, and started to snicker.  “ ‘ _Fuck you, this is a fantastic idea_ ’.”

Rhodey grinned.  “Yeah, I still don’t know who this is,”  He tapped the more feminine hand that wrapped around his bicep.  _Took you long enough._  “But I get the impression it’ll be a while.”

Clint seemed to have finished with Darcy’s hair, which was now a huge crown of braids that wrapped around her head.  She tilted her head all the way back so that she could look him in the eye without changing her position.  “How do I look?”

“You are a pretty pretty princess.”  He assured her solemnly.  Darcy kissed him smack on the lips, almost falling over, and then snapped herself upright.   

“Woah, whiplash.”  She said, putting her hand to her head.  She seemed to decide that the solution to her dizziness was more scotch.

“How much have you had?”  Rhodey asked, glancing at the nearly empty bottle.

“More than me.”  Tony said wistfully.  “She’s like the perfect woman, Rhodey.”

“I am preeeeeeetty great, and pretty pretty. Pretty pretty pretty.”  Darcy agreed, and giggled.  She leaned back against Clint, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.  Darcy smiled at him, and gave him another loud kiss on the cheek.

“Clint is also adorable.”  She observed sagely.  “Despite The Thing.”

Clint tucked her under his chin.  “Yes.  Clint also thinks that Darcy should probably go to bed soon.”

“Clint is not as smart as he is adorable.”  Darcy said, her straw making slurping noises against the bottom of the bottle.

“Clint is willing to agree with that statement.”  Clint told her.  He pulled out his phone.  “Who do you want to come get you?”

Darcy decided not to point out that they were currently in her room.  “Mmmm… Steve.”  She decided, and Tony painted a streak of Iron Man red up his arm.

“ _Steve?_ ”  He said, incredulous.  “Why Steve?”

Darcy looked at him seriously.  “Tony.  I am very drunk right now.”

“...And?”  Tony asked, when no further explanation seemed forthcoming.

“So, Jane is too small to carry me, and it can’t be James, or Things Will Occur.”  Darcy explained, rolling her eyes as if these were the most obvious answers in the world.  “Like, All of The Things, Tony, and I would like to  _remember_ it when All of The Things Occur.”

“Ooooooh, quality plan.”  Tony said, nodding, and went back to his nails.

“He’s coming.”  Clint annouced, and took a swig of rum from his bottle.  “Now I can stop being responsible.”

When Steve showed up he seemed uncertain how he should feel-- amused or concerned.

“...Is he okay?”  He asked, looking at where Tony was listing to one side as if there were a strong wind.

Rhodey, coating his big toe in silver polish, waved a hand.  “I got him.”  He promised.

Steve didn’t seem entirely convinced, but picked his way across the floor to where Darcy was snuggling her face into Clint’s neck.  He picked her up without being asked.

“Okay, I’m leaving, everyone kiss me goodnight.”  Darcy demanded.  Steve looked about to protest, but seemed to relax when Clint just gave her a peck on the cheek.  He even went so far as to carry her over to Tony and Rhodey.

Darcy curled up in Steve’s arms, feeling very comfortable.  “I feel like a sugar glider.”  She informed him.

“...I don’t know what that is.”  Steve admitted, his mouth quirking.

“Little squirrel thing.  Adorable.”  She promised.

When they got to Steve’s rooms, he set her down.  James was sitting on a pile of pillows in one corner of the room that Darcy didn’t remember from the last time she’d been there.

“Hi.”  Darcy said, immediately flopping down with her head in his lap.  “I was trying to avoid you.  But Steve is here, so it’s okay I guess.”

“...Why?”  James asked, watching in amusement as Darcy looked at him first with her right eye, and then her left.

“I am very drunk right now.”  She told him seriously.

“Somehow, I picked up on that, doll.”  He told her, grinning, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“Oh, more kissing.  Now Steve.”  She demanded.  Steve looked taken aback, but James laughed.

“Well, don’t keep the lady waiting, punk.”  He said, gesturing to Darcy with his head.  Steve sat down in the pillows next to them and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, blushing.  She beamed at him.

“Okay, now kiss each other.”  Darcy said, and they both stared at her.  “What?”

“Ah… We’re men?”  James said, his forehead wrinkling like this idea had never occurred to him before.

“Oh my god, you guys are both so old.”  She moaned.  “ ‘Back in my day, before the molten hot surface of the earth cooled, we didn’t have ‘the gays’ or the ‘bisexuals’ or whatever you kids are these days’.”

Steve laughed uncomfortably, but James still had a look of concentration, like he was trying to figure something out.

“I’m going to sleep.”  Darcy announced, burrowing her head against James’s stomach.  “You guys stay up and talk about how not gay you are.  Wake me up if you’re gonna kiss.”


	12. Sam

 

In the morning Darcy found herself alone in Steve’s room with a bottle of water and some aspirin near her head.

“Bless you.”  She whispered to whoever had left them, and devoted herself to drinking the entire bottle.  Someone had thoughtfully pulled the blinds, so the room was cool and shady, and Darcy curled into the pillows.  She was a little hungover, sort of headachey and nauseous, but she’d had worse.  Sometimes she almost enjoyed a mild hangover.  It was an excuse to spend the day in bed watching cartoons in her sweat pants, like a sick day in middle school.

She wasn’t really looking forward to navigating the florescent lighting in the hallway, or discovering the state her rooms were in after last night, so she just lay there until someone knocked on the door.

She opened it expecting Steve or James, and found a black man she didn’t recognize.

“Oh.”  He said, obviously not expecting her either, “I’m sorry, I thought this was Steve’s room.”

“And you were correct, this is Steve’s room.”  Darcy said, squinting a bit at the light.  It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be.  “I’m not sure where he is right now though.  You wanna come in and wait?”

“...Sure.”  He said, and with reluctance Darcy flicked the lights on.  At least Steve seemed to favor softer lighting.

“Do you want anything to drink?”  Darcy asked, feeling a little weird offering Steve’s stuff without his permission.

“I’m fine, thank you.”  The man said politely, still looking at her with a little frown.  “I’m Sam, by the way.”

Darcy shook his offered hand.  “Darcy.”

 _That_ seemed to surprise him.  “Wow.  Okay.”  He said, looking like he was adjusting his whole worldview.

“Hmm, cryptic.”  She said, getting herself a second bottle of water from Steve’s mini fridge and sitting back down in the pillows.  “I take it my reputation precedes me.”

Sam laughed uncomfortably, and didn’t elaborate.  Darcy shrugged and covered her eyes with her arm so she could drink her water in a more comfortable state.

“Just-- is this something that you guys have been doing for a while?”  He finally asked, apparently unable to contain himself.  “Ah-- no, sorry, don’t answer that, none of my business.”

“Dude, I don’t know what you think is going on here,”  Darcy said, without moving her arm, “But I guarantee you, it’s way less interesting than you seem to think it is.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Sam asked in a completely different voice,  “Is that Bucky’s?”

Darcy had gotten so used to keeping her arm bare that she’d almost forgotten why she’d started covering it in the first place.  “Yep.”  She said, and grabbed her water with two hands instead of one so that her soulmarks weren’t so obviously on display.  She was starting to get a little annoyed with his increasingly invasive questions.

“I-- Wow, I’m really not doing well here.”  Sam said, running a hand over his hair awkwardly.  “I’m usually better with people.  I’m sorry.  I’m friends with Steve, and he talks about you and Bucky a lot, so I sort of feel like I know you.”

“No, I get it.  Glad he has someone to talk to, actually.”  Darcy admitted.  “He doesn’t seem to get out much.”

“You kind of have to trick him into it.”  Sam said, with a smile that looked like it had a story behind it.  

“I could see that.  Good for you, dude.”  Darcy said, holding her water up in a toast.

There was a light tap on the door, like whoever outside was just letting them know they were coming in, and James walked in carrying a plastic bag.

“Hey Sam.”  He said, and handed Darcy a takeout container and some chopsticks before he sat down in the pillows with her.

When she opened it, it turned out to be pho.  “You’re a god.”  She informed him.  “Like, a real life, erect a statue in the town square, greek god.”

James, digging into a cardboard container of almond chicken with his left hand, just nodded as if this were his due.  “You’re looking pretty greek yourself.”  He said with his mouth full, gesturing to her hair.

Darcy felt her head.  “Oh.  Yeah, Clint gave me princess hair.”  She agreed, struggling to fish a piece of shrimp out of the broth.

James raised an eyebrow.  “Clint?”

Darcy shrugged.  “What can I say, we bonded as only a stalker and his stalkee can.”

“Hmph.”  James said, and grabbed her wrist absently.  Darcy shifted her pho into her lap so she could eat better with just her right hand.

Sam was watching their entire interaction with the fascinated air of a zoologist observing the mating habits of a rare animal.

There was a tap on the door, and Steve walked in with his hair a little wet, like he’d just taken a shower.

“Oh.  Hey Sam, did I forget that we were doing something today?”  Steve asked, looking a bit taken aback.

“Na, just thought I’d stop by, see how you were doing.”  Sam said, smiling.  “That text last night was kind of desperate.”

“Ah-- yeah.”  Steve said, then glanced at Darcy and rubbed the back of his neck.

She raised her eyebrows.  “Do you want me to get out of here so you can talk about me?  Because I can do that.”

“No!”  Steve said immediately, but his face was kind of saying ‘Yes’.

Darcy turned to look at James.  “You wanna come lay in bed with me and watch Dog Cops?  That is my traditional hangover activity.”

“Oh, so there was drinking.”  Sam said, looking like a few things were coming together for him.

“Two bottles of the best scotch I’ve ever had.”  Darcy said dreamily.  Sam whistled.  “I should always get drunk with billionaires.  Hey, maybe that can be my new Friday night thing.”  She said, snagging her phone from the carpet.  Balancing it on her knees, she swiped out a quick text to Tony.

“I-- Are you sure you should do that?  You both seemed…”  Steve seemed at a loss.  “I was worried about you.”  He finally said.

Darcy waved a hand.  “Na, extenuating circumstances.  We’ll be more low key than that from now on, it was just a weird day.  Hey, did you know Pepper’s getting married?”

“Ah-- What?  But yesterday they seemed so--”  Steve said, and then blushed.

“I know, that’s what I said, but I guess that was like, a send-off or whatever.”  Darcy said, shrugging.  Her phone pinged.

“Sweet.”  She said, reading Tony’s message.  “I am gonna bond so hard with his liquor cabinet next weekend.  I know you guys can’t get drunk, but I can make basically all the drinks.  Some of them are way tastey.”

James shrugged, looking vaguely interested.

“You can’t get drunk?”  Sam said, looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow.  He did that neck thing and then glanced over at Darcy again.

“Okay, my room time.”  Darcy declared, putting a lid on her soup and sticking it into James's plastic bag.  He closed his takeout container and shoved it in as well, looped the bag over his left arm, and scooped Darcy up with his right so that she was draped over his shoulder.

“Woah, okay, I guess I’m not walking then.”  She commented, waving to Sam and Steve.  “Bye guys.  Nice meeting you Sam.”

“It was very interesting meeting you.”  Sam responded.  Steve was too busy trying not to look relieved to say anything.

“So, did you guys actually talk about how not gay you are?  Is that the weirdness?  Because I am kind of sorry about saying that.”  Darcy said as soon as they were out of earshot.

James shrugged.  “Not really.  Did you try to make anyone else kiss last night?”

“Just me,”  Darcy replied, and James raised an eyebrow.

“Have a lot of luck?”

“Of course, I’m adorable.”  Darcy said, fluttering her lashes.  “They were all platonic, if that’s a concern.  I’m a very cuddly drunk lady.”

“I gathered.”  He said, looking amused.  Then his face went serious.  “You said something about avoiding being alone with me.”

“James,”  She looked at him seriously.  “I am  _very_ cuddly.  And I was very drunk.  Please put these two facts together in your mind.”

He looked confused for a moment, and then it cleared.  “Ah.  I see.”

He gave her a sidelong glance.  “Not quite there yet?”

Darcy mirrored his look.  "Well, not quite ready for All of The Things.  But I  _do_ have a headache, and you know what always helps with that..."


	13. Kate

It was hard to be angry about the state of her living room when someone had spelled out the word ‘Sorry’ on the floor with hundred dollar bills.

“I accept your apology, money.”  Darcy told it formally as she picked it up.  Her place wasn’t exactly the rock-star level of trashed she’d expected.  Just a bottle of spilled nail polish, some empty bottles and trash.  Nothing she cared enough about to clean up immediately, anyway.

“Okay, bed?”  She asked, stashing their leftovers in her nearly empty refrigerator.  James was scanning her living room, and it occurred to her that he’d never been there before.  It had become habit for her to show up at his rooms, and any other time they spent together was usually with Steve.

She hadn’t really done much with her living room.  Darcy had spent so much time living in dorm rooms that she was accustomed to public space being sort of neutral-- the suite had come with furniture and a few pieces of art, and she’d left it that way.  It was almost identical to James’s.

Her bedroom was a different story.

“...That is a lot of pillows.  And blankets.”  He observed, taking in the three plush comforters and the piles of cushions stacked against the headboard that spilled onto the floor.

“I basically live in this bed.”  Darcy informed him.  “It is comfortable as shit.”

“So, are you cool with Dog Cops, or…?”  She flopped down on her stomach and opened her laptop.  James shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her mattress tentatively, like he didn’t trust it to be solid or something.  Darcy queued up a few episodes and set her computer on the chair she kept at the end of her bed.

“Hey, plug those in and turn off the overhead?”  She asked, gesturing to the white and blue Christmas lights that she’d wrapped around the posts of her bed.  James obliged, and then stood there, like he’d gotten distracted.

“If you don’t get in here your position is going to get usurped by a body pillow.”  She said, already turning on her side to prop her leg up on it.  He toed his shoes off and climbed into the bed.  

Darcy had changed into yoga pants half way through the drinking last night, but James was wearing slacks and a button up.  It was what he always wore (Darcy was under the impression that Steve picked out his clothes) but it felt too formal now.

It was her room, with its fabric hammocks full of stuffed animals and its bulletin boards of postcards, pictures, and song lyrics.  It wasn’t the kind of place where you stood on ceremony.

Darcy curled against him, trapping one of his legs between hers.  His heartbeat and the warmth of his chest against her cheek was incredibly comforting.  “I have like, sweat pants and stuff if you’d be more comfortable.”  She murmured, already feeling a little sleepy.

There was a long pause.  “No,”  He said, and put his arms around her.  “I’m comfortable.”

“M’kay.”  Darcy said, rubbing her face against his shirt affectionately, like a cat.  James started to slowly work her hair out of its braids, the gentle pulling so familiar and relaxing she almost drifted off.  Neither of them were watching the show, but it felt necessary to have it on anyway.  They needed some pretense of an activity other than holding each other.  This was all new territory, too new to be completely honest yet.  She had never fallen asleep listening to his heart, or felt their feet kiss at the bottom of the bed.  She had never really had this with anyone, despite her experience with men-- that had been sex.   _This_ was intimate.

They lay there, alternately pulling each other close and relaxing until the her laptop screen went black and quiet.  Darcy sighed, and pressed her face into James’s neck-- and the atmosphere changed.  She felt like holding her breath.

In the faint blue light, she saw James’s chest move as he exhaled. “Still want help with that headache?”  He murmured, and when Darcy nodded, he kissed her.  

The last time they were together, it had been like an explosion.  Exhilarating, and terrifying, picking up too much speed.  But now his mouth is warm and slow against hers, like he has plenty of time, and somehow that’s even better.  They’re not doing anything more exciting than kissing, but Darcy can feel little tremors starting in her body.  When his hand slid down to hold the bare edge of her hip, Darcy shivered so hard that she knows he must have felt it.  

He moved to kiss her neck.  “Everything okay?” He murmured, with his lips still against her skin.

“Yeah,”  Darcy couldn’t even feel embarrassed about how stupid and breathless she sounded, especially when she felt him grin.

His human hand was still holding her waist, his thumb tracing a path across the flesh of her stomach absentmindedly, the way you’d rub your thumb over the back of someone’s hand as you held it.  When it brushed the top on her pants, Darcy whimpered.

“ _Shhhhh_.”  James whispered into her ear, hesitating with his left hand near her lips.  Darcy leaned up to kiss his fingers, and he covered her mouth with them.  The metal of his hand wasn’t cold, just a little cooler than body temperature, and it felt good against her face.

He was still kissing her neck, in the same unhurried way, but now his other hand started to work its way up under her shirt.  Darcy found that she was holding her own wrist behind James’s back so that she wouldn’t touch him, her right hand squeezing her left.  He didn’t seem to like being touched.

His hand was wrapping around her rib cage, torturously close to her breast, when the proximity alarm went off.

Everything stopped immediately-- the kissing, his hands.  James didn’t even roll off of her, just picked Darcy up and carried her out of the room.

“Are you fucking serious.”  Darcy said, staring at the red and white rotating light that had rolled out of a compartment in her wall and was now blaring a klaxon.  They were out of her room and running down the hall before her brain could catch up.

“Wait, shoes!”  She protested, but it was like he he couldn’t hear her.  When Darcy looked at his face, it had that scary blankness again.   _Okay,_ Darcy thought, more freaked out by this than whatever had set off the tower alarms, _Okay, so, talk to him._

“James, where are we going?”  She asked, and he looked at her.  It wasn’t quite like when he’d woken up and held her down-- his eyes were tracking-- but there was something automated about his movements, like he wasn’t completely in control of them.

“Safe room.”  He said, opening a panel in the wall of the hallway that she hadn’t known existed.  It was small, almost as big as the queen sized bed that they had just crawled out of, and Darcy had a weird moment of dissonance.  He set her down and started to close the door.

“James, James, wait, what about Jane, I need Jane.”  She protested, putting her hand on his arm to stop him.  He looked at it.

“No.”  He said, and shut the door.

Darcy felt her mouth drop open.  “Bu-- Oh my god.  I cannot believe you just did that.”

He just shrugged, leaning against the wall to get more comfortable.

“What about Jane?”  Darcy asked, still appalled.  She sat down with her back to the wall opposite him.

When his eyes met hers, they were icy.  “I don’t care about Jane.”

Before she could think of a response, the door opened, and someone shoved a girl in a short purple dress inside the room with them.

“ _You fucking asshole._ ”  The girl hissed, smacking her fist against the door as it closed.  “I know where you sleep Barton, I am going to _smother you_ while you sleep.”

She seemed to notice Darcy first, and then James.  “Woah, hello.”  The girl said, holding up her hands.  “Kate Bishop, Hawkeye?”

“Right, Clint’s friend.”  Darcy said pointedly.  James had moved in front of her as soon as the door had opened, staring at Kate like he was trying to decide how hard she would be to kill.

“Yes, Clint’s friend.”  Kate agreed, looking a little annoyed.  James stared at her for a few more seconds before sitting down, his body still pointed towards her.

“Hmph.”  He muttered, obviously not impressed by anyone that Clint might vouch for.  He grabbed Darcy’s wrist, and settled in to stare at the door.


	14. Maria

Steve’s relief when he opens the door to the safe room is palpable.

“Oh, thank god.”  He said, his hands squeezing compulsively at his sides like he wanted to reach out and touch James, but didn’t dare.  Some of the scariness had faded from his face, but he was still a little too motionless.

Darcy smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Hey Steve.  Do you know where Jane is?”

“Thor has her someplace safe.”  He promised, patting her back less awkwardly than last time.

Kate, who had been sulking in a corner of the room for the last hour, made an annoyed sound.  “Oh, sure, let’s make sure all the _women_ are safe.  Because they’re all _so_ helpless.”

She huffed again.  “This never happens to the Black Widow.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at her.  “Kate, did you not want to be in here?  I asked Clint where you were, and he said--”

“ _Clint Barton_ ,”  She interrupted, poking him in the chest with her index finger, “Is a traitor, and a _liar_.”

She stormed out.  Steve looked down at Darcy, who shrugged.  “Yeah, I don’t know, she’s been doing like the verbal equivalent of vaguebooking the entire time we’ve been in here.”

“...Right.”  Steve agreed, obviously not entirely sure what she was talking about.  “We’re all having something to eat up in Tony’s suite if you’re interested.”

“Ah, no, I think I want to go to bed early.  Still a little hungover, and these lights are not helping.”  She lied, after a glance at James.

“Okay,” Steve agreed, taking in the situation.  “Maybe I’ll bring you a plate later.”

“Bless you.”  Darcy said, and Steve frowned a little, like he thought she was messing with him.  “You’re a real life angel.”

“I’m not that terrifying.”  Steve said.  James laughed, and they both looked surprised.

“ ‘Kay, feeling like I’m missing the inside joke.”  Darcy prompted.

Steve was staring at James.  “Oh, well, I always thought they sounded scary in the Bible.  Catholic.”  He added in explanation, pointing at himself.

“ ‘Six wings, and was covered with eyes all around.’ ”  James said, and Steve’s smile was blinding.

“...That does sound terrifying.”  Darcy observed.

“Yeah,”  Steve agreed, still looking pretty damn happy.  “Right.  So, I’ll see you later.”  He said, giving her shoulder a squeeze on his way out.

“Bye Steve.”  Darcy said, letting James pick her up again.  She was starting to feel like either a child or a koala bear.

He carried her to her room.  Whatever had happened didn’t seem to have happened here, because they were exactly as they’d been when the alarms went off.

After he set her on her bed, he seemed about to leave.

“Hey,”  She said, confused, and he paused in the doorway.  “You’re going?”

“...You’re mad at me.”  He said as if that should be obvious.

“Yes.  But you don’t have to go like, sleep on the couch or whatever.”  Darcy said, exasperated.  “People get mad at eachother.”

He looked at her warily.  “I didn’t go get Jane.”  He said, almost guilty about it.

“Yeah, and she was fine, because she’s an adult lady and everything.”  Darcy reminded him.  “Look, it’s been a seriously long shitty day, and I don’t want to do this right now.  Just get in the damn bed.”

When he did, Darcy turned her back to him and pulled his arms around her waist.  He sighed, his face in her hair.

“I don’t understand you.”  He said softly.  Darcy brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty weird too.”  She told him.

 

When Steve shows up around midnight, James is asleep and Darcy is playing fruit ninja on her phone.  They’d left the door open, but he still knocks.

“Hey,”  She said, shifting James’s arms lower so that she could sit up.  Steve sat down on her side of the bed and handed her a plate of fruit and cheese.

“Sorry, it was all I could get.”  He said, keeping his voice low.

“No, this is great, thank you.”  Darcy said, and started to devour it with her fingers.

“I’m surprised he’s sleeping.”  Steve said softly, looking down at James’s face.  “He seemed kind of wound up.”

“Yeah, he did get scary.”  Darcy agreed, and handed Steve her empty plate.  “Could you set that on the chair for right now?”

He glanced down at the plate.  His face had this tightness that reminded her of James-- that constant tension.  Darcy examined his expression more closely, and found something there that scared her.  “Steve, do you want to stay?”

He looked up quickly, like she’d caught him doing something wrong.  “What do you mean?”

“Like, do you want to sleep here.”  Darcy clarified, although she didn’t think he actually needed her to.  “Because this is a big bed.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, then looked down at the plate in his hands, something conflicted in his face.  Darcy decided to push him.

“If you really don’t want to, that’s fine-- but don’t say no because of some weird 40s idea of propriety.  Just,”  She sighed, “You don’t always have to be the one who has to hold it all together, you know?”

There was a long pause, and then Steve took a deep breath.  “Yes.”  He said, still looking at his hands.  “I want to stay here.”

 

Darcy woke up just before Maria Hill put her hand on Steve’s arm.  He was curled up against James’s back, one hand fisted in his shirt.

 _Don’t you fucking dare._  She thought, sitting up.  Maria looked up at the movement, and Darcy shook her head.  She worked James’s arm off of her and climbed out of bed, pointing at the door.  Maria raised an eyebrow, but followed her out.

Darcy shut the bedroom door behind herself and leaned on it.

“What.”  She said, not trying to lower her voice.

“I need to talk to Steve.”  Maria said, and stared at Darcy like she could will her to listen through aggressive eye contact alone.

“No.”  Darcy said, making eye contact just as hard.  “You need to let Steve have a fucking nap before something bad happens.”

“This is important.”  Maria said, something in her face saying _you stupid little girl_.

“If it was that important, you wouldn’t have cared if we all woke up.”  Darcy told her.  “And I didn’t invite you into my home.  So get out.”

Maria hesitated.  “He won’t like it.”  She said, looking uncomfortable at the prospect of Steve being upset with her.

Darcy shrugged.  “So, tell him it was my fault.  I don’t give a shit.  I don’t know what you’ve been doing to him over there at Shitty Acronym Central, but that man is about to snap.  You need to back off for a while.”

Maria gave her another long stare, and Darcy stared right back.  “I’m serious.”  She pointed.  “There’s the door.  Walk through it.”

Maria’s eyes caught on James words on Darcy's arm, and she looked a little taken aback.

And she left.


	15. Happy

 

Pepper’s wedding was ridiculous in all the best ways.  There were fairy lights, gauze curtains, and candles floating in the fountains.  There were four different perfect wedding cakes.  It was a cliche, everything you imagined a wedding should be distilled down into one event.  

Darcy found it alluring and strangely off-putting at the same time.  That kind of fairy tale romance didn’t make sense in the context of her life.  As much as she loved looking at that Versace wedding dress, she couldn’t imagine herself wearing it.  Still, she had to admit there was something about seeing James in a suit that made her imagine it, just for a moment.

Pepper was beautiful and laughing, Happy was appropriately devoted and awestruck, and everyone else kept looking surreptitiously at Tony to see how he was taking it.  

He seemed to be taking it with a glass of champagne.

“Darcy, have you tried the mimosa?”  Pepper asked, gesturing to fizzing pink glasses on a silver tray.

“Is that grapefruit juice?”  Darcy asked, looking at the little slices that garnished the fluted glasses.

“Mmm, yes, but it’s not sour.  Try some.”  Pepper said, handing Darcy a glass.  Darcy opened her mouth to refuse, and then took it, looking down at the pink liquid uncomfortably.

“Lewis needs real liquor.”  Tony informed Pepper, taking the mimosa from her and downing it in one swallow.  “Also, I believe that this is our song.”  He said, setting the glass back down on the table with a flourish before grabbing Darcy’s hand to pull her onto the dance floor.

“So, anti-depressants?”  He said, threading their fingers together as he started to lead.

“Tony, were you just  _subtle_?  Did you just chivalrously rescue me from an awkward conversation with _tact_?”  Darcy faked a look of shock, then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.  “Such a gentleman.”

He shrugged, grinning.  Darcy saw Tony in a suit almost every day, but he looked different in this environment, under all the soft gold lights.  She could see why someone would love him.  “Not a lot of other things make you allergic to grapefruit.  Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t mind, but it’s not a big deal at the moment.”  Darcy said honestly.  “I had kind of a bad patch back in college.  Did some therapy, got on some meds.  And then I met Jane, so that helped too.”

“I thought you were suspiciously well adjusted.”  Tony commented, spinning her.  His hand resting on the small of her back was just the right amount of contact to keep her steady.

“Like, the whole Barnes thing.  I mean obviously you’re his soulmate, but so’s the Cap, and we’ve all seen how that’s been going.”  Tony made a comically horrified face.  Darcy smiled and laid her head against his shoulder, thinking about this morning and the way that Steve and Bucky had been curled around each other like cats.

“Steve’s doing better.”  She said.  Tony gave her a sideways glance.

“Hmmm.”  He made a suggestive gesture with his eyebrows.  “So.  Are the three of you doing Things?  Because you’re looking pretty smug, Lewis.”

Darcy laughed.  “Tony, have you met Steve?  No.  We are having the world’s most platonic sleepovers.  It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“I could see that.”  Tony said, nodding.  “He’s been more… I don’t know.  Relaxed.”

“Yeah, well, and I yelled at Maria Hill.”  Darcy mumbled, “So that could also be helping.  I fucking hate SHIELD.”

“...Are you sure you’re not my soulmate, Lewis?  Because I feel like I would totally marry you.”  Tony dipped her suddenly, planting a kiss on her forehead, and Darcy let out a startled burst of laughter that was loud enough to make people nearby stare.  “I’m serious, look around you, I give good wedding.”

“See, you say that now, but as soon as ‘Mr. Stark’ turns up, I’d be out on my ass.”  Darcy pursed her lips.  “Although I bet you give good alimony.”

“I think Mr. Stark’s probably come and gone.”  Tony said, his smile trying for self-deprecating and landing on something else.  “So anytime you want to make an honest man out of me…”

“Hmm.”  Darcy said, trying to remember what the handwriting on Tony’s arm had looked like.  There had been something a little familiar about it.  “So, since we’re having an almost serious conversation, how’re you doing with this whole Pepper thing?”

Tony shrugged.  “It’s not actually a thing, is that weird?  She’s still Pep, not like she’s going anywhere.”

Darcy felt a sudden surge of affection for the woman.  She didn’t know Pepper well, but Tony wasn’t the kind of man who was that certain about people-- if he knew that he always had Pepper, it was because she had made sure he felt that way.

“You’re good people, Tony Stark.”  Darcy said, letting him twirl her again.

“Oh, original.  Get your own compliments.”  Tony rolled his eyes, but he looked a little pleased.  “So, I think I should return you to your super soldier boyfriends before they start to freak out.”

Darcy looked behind her to see James and Steve watching them dance with identical expressions on their faces.

“Huh.”  Darcy said, trying to figure out why  _Steve_ would look at her like that.  Then it clicked.

He wasn’t looking at  _her_.

“Wow, okay, that’s… Tony, can you show me your soulmarks again?”  Darcy said.  Tony raised his eyebrows, but shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeve.

Darcy tapped her finger against the ‘Mr. Stark’.  “Hey, Tony… this is going to sound weird, but I think this might be Steve?”

Tony’s face went completely blank.  Then he laughed, humorlessly.  “I don’t… No.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows.  “Are you sure?  Because he has three, and one of them just says ‘Captain’.  In like, typeset… Were you in the suit the first time you met?”

“I-- Yeah, I was.”  Tony said, his eyes tracking back and forth as he tried to remember.  He looked pale.  “I need to go check something.  You okay here?  I need to-- Don’t tell him.  Not until I know.”

“...Okay.”  Darcy agreed, not sure if she should be worried about how Tony was taking this.  He seemed sort of manic, his hands too busy.

“I just need to go check something.”  Tony repeated, and practically ran from the room.

 _Well_ , Darcy thought, watching him go,  _ **that**  explains a few things._


	16. Coulson

Darcy opened her door the next morning to find a man in a suit waiting patiently outside, filling in paperwork with a silver pen.

As soon as Coulson saw her he stood, smiling blandly.  “Hello Miss Lewis.”  His tone of voice was mild, like this was the start of a pleasant breakfast meeting that they’d both agreed to, as opposed to what it actually was.  Which was a strange man in a suit accosting her while she was walking hungover to the kitchen in her pajamas.  Darcy paused with her hand still on the doorknob, shut it in his face, and walked back into her suite.

Steve and Bucky were sleeping back-to-back, James curved around the space in the bed that she had vacated.  Darcy bit her lip, looking between the two of them before deciding on James.  This felt like a SHIELD thing, and she hadn’t really talked to Steve about that yet.

Darcy stoked her hand over his forehead and let it rest on his face.  “James,” She whispered, and he opened his eyes, noticing her position with a furrow in his forehead.

“Hey,”  He said, sitting up and glancing behind himself to see if Steve was still sleeping.  “What…?”

“Um,”  Darcy said, trying to think of the best way to phrase what she wanted without completely freaking him out.  “Would you walk with me to the kitchen?  There’s a probably not threatening guy outside, and--”

James was out of the bed before she could finish.

_I just wanted an omelette._   Darcy thought grumpily, following James to the door.  Coulson was still there, his hands folded in front of him.  He looked James over in an unsurprised way.

“Hello Sergeant Barnes.”  He said.  James just stared at him, his eyes cold.

“I’m still hungry, so can this happen in the kitchen?”  Darcy asked, and James picked her up and started carrying her down the hallway.  Coulson followed them, flicking his eyes between James’s slacks and Darcy’s fleece pajamas.  

Darcy let her chin rest on James’s shoulder, feeling so fucking done with life.  He won’t even put her down to cook, so Darcy ends up toasting an english muffin and eating it with a slice of cheese while she fantasizes about sauted mushrooms and feels resentful.

“So, Miss Lewis, are you prepared to explain why you are impeding the progress of a government agency in its pursuit of terrorists?”  Coulson said, leaning casually against the kitchen counter to watch her eat.

“Sure.  Are  _you_  prepared to explain why you’re pushing a national icon into a state of mental and emotional collapse?”  Darcy said, pointing at the sink so that James would carry her over for a glass of water.

“Captain Rogers’s psychiatric evaluations have all come back--”  Coulson began, and Darcy made a gagging noise.

“That’s what you’re going with?  Seriously?  His paperwork?”  Darcy said, and gave him a stare of utter disgust.  He actually looked a little uncomfortable.

“No one cares about Captain Roger’s well being more than I do.”  Coulson said stoutly.  James snorted.

“No one cares about Captain Roger’s well being more than I do.”  He repeated, still expressionless.  “If you truly believe that he is not fit to serve, I will respect that, but I have to question if  _he_ would agree to that.”

“Oh my god.”  Darcy said, appalled that  _this_ was Steve’s handler.  “Of course he wouldn’t agree, because Steve thinks that  _everyone_ is more valuable than he is.  He’s never going to tell you he needs to stop.  He’s just going to keep doing increasingly reckless shit until something kills him.”

Coulson looked down, just for a moment, and Darcy knew that she had him.  That he’d noticed it too, even if it was subconscious.

“And if you ask him,”  Darcy said, making firm eye contact,  “He’s going to tell you that he’s fine, that he can handle it, that the mission is more important.  And if you listen, you are going to kill him, and I will  _never_ forgive you.”

Coulson stared at her, then turned and left the room.

“Okay, let me make an omelette now.”  Darcy said, patting James’s arm to be let down.  He set her on the counter instead, planted his hands on either side of her face, and kissed her.

Steve sleeping with them had kind of put the brakes on, and Darcy hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been for this until now.  She drug him as close to the counter as she could, her hands fisted in his shirt.  They were in the communal kitchen at ten in the morning, it was incredibly inappropriate, and she did not care.

James had let go of her face and was running his hands over her body, feeling the curve of her hips through her pajamas.  When they brushed her breasts she couldn’t suppress a moan.

James pulled back, looking around the room.  He raised an eyebrow, and Darcy sighed.

“Yeah, okay.”  She said, jumping off the counter and walking over to the fridge.  James looked confused.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah?”  She said, pulling eggs from the fridge in a manner that could only be characterized as ‘ungracious’.

“Come with me, so we can do this  _not_ in the kitchen.”  James said, looking amused at her obvious annoyance.

“Oh thank god.”  Darcy said, and abandoned her ingredients immediately.  She was a little confused when he pulled her into the pantry.

“Um.  Why?”  Darcy asked, as he pulled the door shut.  James grinned, reaching for something near the ceiling.  There was a soft click, and part of the wall pulled away.

“Bomb shelter.”  He said, crawling inside.  It was incredibly small, with enough space for one or two people and a little bench that extended from the wall so that they could sit down.  James sat, pulled Darcy onto his lap, and shut them in.

The room wasn’t exactly dark-- there was some kind of faint blue light-- but Darcy would have felt claustrophobic if it wasn’t for the warm presence at her back.

“Do you want to know the best thing about this place?”  James murmured, kissing the back of Darcy’s neck.  She shivered.

“What?”  She asked, already a little breathless.

“It’s soundproof.”  He answered, and started to unbutton her shirt.


	17. Fury

“So, are you available for an awkward conversation about my sex life?”  Darcy asked, draping herself across the counter.  Jane looked up from her microscope.  “Because I need a second opinion on if something was weird or not.”

“It was weird.”  Jane agreed immediately, adjusting a dial on the side of the machine.

“Jane.”  Darcy said severely.  “This is a serious matter.  I need your serious opinion.”

“It’s you.  And the Winter Soldier.  I’m positive it’s weird, without any further details.”  Jane rolled her eyes at Darcy’s exaggerated sad clown face.  “Fine, tell me.  Did All The Things finally happen?”

Darcy sighed.  “I mean, I guess that depends on your definition of The Things.  A good time was had?  But a good time was not had by all, which is the part that is weird.”

“Hmm.  So, to clarify: _You_ had a good time, yes?”  Jane stopped fiddling with her slides and sat down, folding her arms over the back of the chair.

“Yes.”  Darcy confirmed, wrapping a piece of hair around her finger uncomfortably.  “But he didn’t?  And he didn’t seem to want to.  Like he wouldn’t let me… basically anything.”

Jane raised her eyebrows.  “Hmm.”

“That kind of makes sense.”  She mused, resting her chin on her arms thoughtfully.  “Like a whole ‘I’m a bad person who doesn’t deserve to feel pleasure’ thing.”

“Right,”  Darcy agreed, “That’s what I thought too.”

“Hmm.”  Jane said again.  “I will think about this thing for you.”

“That is all I ask.”  Darcy promised.  She looked up as the doors on the other side of the lab opened.  “Oh, looks like I finally made it to the top of the phone tree.”

Nick Fury strode into the room wearing his whole floor length leather coat thing and a pissed off look on his face.  “Does someone want to tell me why the hell two of my best operatives don’t want to talk to a twenty five year old lab assistant with no combat training?”  He asked the room at large.  Bruce looked up from his notebook.

“You chase another one off?”  He asked Darcy, faintly amused.

“Coulson.”  She told him, shrugging.  “And they don’t want to talk to me because your ‘best agents’ have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone.”

“You’re quoting Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and you want to talk about someone else’s emotional maturity?”  Fury said, his arms crossed over his chest.  Darcy and Jane shared a look of surprise, and Darcy stood up straight.

“Alright Xander, let’s walk and talk.”  She said, looping her arm through his.  Fury looked down at her hand like she’d just put a snake on him, but he followed her lead out into the hallway.

“So,”  Darcy said, settling against the wall,  “You’re here about Steve.”

“I am here about  _Captain Rogers_.”  Fury corrected, standing a foot away from her with impeccable military posture.  “I am here to request that you stop emotionally blackmailing my people anytime they approach Captain Rogers with missions that are of vital importance to this country’s national security.”

Darcy nodded, giving the matter serious consideration.  “No.”  She decided.  “I’m not going to do that.”

“No?”  Fury repeated, eyebrows high.  “Miss Lewis, does this country’s security not enter into the list of shit you think you need to be concerned about?”

“I don’t know what you know about me, Director Fury.  Probably everything.”  Darcy said, unconsciously mirroring his body language-- crossing her arms over her chest and standing up straighter.  “I’ve seen the kind of things that can happen without people like Steve around.  I’m sure the things you want him to do right now are important. But I think that if you don’t back off for a while, this is going to be a pretty goddamn Pyrrhic victory for you.”

She pushed her hair off her forehead, trying to find the right words.  “Look, for Steve, WWII was like, last year.  As far as he’s concerned,  _everyone_ he knew just died.  He’s handling it way better than I would be, but he still needs some time to catch his fucking breath.”

“ ‘Everyone’ isn’t dead.  Sergeant Barnes was recently recovered, as I understand.”  Fury commented, with less force to his words than before.  Darcy got the impression that he was actually listening to her.

“Yeah, he was, and that’s a whole ’nother part of the problem-- because now Steve feels like it’s his responsibility to ‘bring Bucky back’, which might not actually be totally possible, you know?  Not to mention all that Hydra shit.”  Darcy shrugged.  “I get it, you want to like, sow their fields with salt and hear the lamentations of their women or whatever.  But considering how long Hydra was sleeper agenting in SHIELD, I don’t think that Steve taking a couple of months off to get less suicidal is going to be the thing that tips us over the edge into Armageddon.”

Fury regarded her steadily, and then nodded.  “A Pyrrhic victory.  I see how you got to Coulson.”  He paused.  “You ever think about intelligence, Miss Lewis?”

Darcy laughed before she could stop herself, slapping her hands over her mouth.  Fury waited until she could compose herself.

“I’ll give you a month, and we’ll reassess.”  He said, and walked away.

When Darcy walked back into the lab, everyone turned to look at her.  She tried not to look smug, and Bruce whistled.  “I should have you work for me.”  He commented.  “There are some military personal that I wouldn’t mind never talking to again.”

“Put me on the payroll, dude.”  Darcy replied, taking whatever it was that Jane was trying to electrocute herself with out of her hands.

 

After work Darcy found Tony sitting on the floor outside of the lab with red eyes.

“I think it might be him.”  He said as soon as she closed the door.  “I’ve looked at-- I think it might be him.”

“I thought we figured that out like two days ago.”  Darcy said, confused.  “Wait.  You haven’t talked to him about it at all, have you.”

“What the hell am I supposed to  _say?_ ”  Tony demanded, his gesture of emphasis coming across as more of a flail.  “ ‘Sorry, I know you were hoping for someone like Peggy Carter, but I guess you’ll have to make do with a middle aged alcoholic with a heart condition’.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”  Darcy said, and smacked him on the shoulder.  “You’re great.  He’s totally into you, stop being ridiculous.”

“He’s-- wait, what do you mean he’s  _into_  me?”  Tony demanded, scrambling to his feet.  Darcy rolled her eyes and started to walk down the hallway.

“No, I’m serious, explain yourself Lewis, he’s ‘into me’?  Did he say…?”  Tony was walking backwards so that he could watch her face for liar’s tells more effectively.

“He’s into you.  He ‘like’ likes you.”  Darcy promised, not sure if she should be amused or depressed by him right now.

“But did he  _say_ anything.”  Tony pressed, pulling at hair that was already sticking up,  “Because that’s a very important detail, Lewis--”

“It’s Steve, obviously he didn’t say anything.”  Darcy interrupted.  “He’s into you.  What’re you gonna do about it.”

Tony made a long, distressed noise.  “ _This is so much pressure._ ”  He complained, watching her hit the up button on the elevator.  “Wait, where are we going?  I can’t go to your rooms, he’ll be there, I need to be at least a little bit drunk for this.”

Darcy pursed her lips.  “Hmm.  You know, there are worse ideas.  Okay, let’s drink first.”

Tony seemed a little taken aback.  “Wait.  You’re agreeing with me?  I feel like most people would try to stop this.  Like Pepper, Pepper would definitely stop me.”

“Hello, my name is Darcy Lewis, and I’ll be your enabler for this evening.”  She replied, grinning, and they took the elevator up to Tony’s floor.


	18. Hammer

When Steve and James found them, they’d already been making prank phone calls for an hour.

“Okay, no, wait, no--”  Tony was saying, trying to pry the phone from Darcy while she batted him of.  She saw Steve and James hovering in the doorway and threw them a wink, her attention focused on the voice on the other end of the telephone.

“I know what I’m doing, Tony, just-- Hello, may I speak with Mr. Hammer please?”  Darcy said, her voice changing.  If one had been picturing the owner of that voice, they would imagine her behind a desk, wearing a nice pants suit and glasses.  They would not have pictured a girl in sweatpants and a T-shirt, laying in bed with a glass of bourbon.  Tony was draped halfway across her body from trying to grab the phone, and she saw Steve glance at where his shirt rode up and then look away, swallowing.

“Thank you.  Yes, I can hold.”  She said sweetly.  She covered the phone with one hand.  “ _Not another word._ ”  She said, pointing her finger at Tony.  He didn’t seem to have noticed that they weren’t alone anymore.

“Hello?  Yes, thank you for taking the time to speak with me today Mr. Hammer, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.  Before we begin, I just wanted to tell you how much I admire the way that you really make the industry yours.  Some people might characterize your actions as predatory, but it’s important for your competitors to know that you get yours, because Hammer don’t play that if you try to get his.  You’re really too legit to quit, sir, it’s admira--”  Darcy paused, and looked at the screen of her phone, where the call had just disconnected.  Tony had started to crack up somewhere around the word ‘legit’ and was choking with laughter, his face pressed against her neck.

“Did you-- MC Hammer--”  He gasped, and started laughing again, clutching Darcy’s shirt convulsively.  He seemed to be having trouble breathing and keeping his mouth closed.

“I  _told_  you, you need to trust me.”  Darcy said, giving him a tap with the glass of bourbon.  

“Oh, hey guys.”  Darcy said, pretending to notice Steve and James in the doorway, and the change in Tony was immediate, all the muscles in his back drawing together protectively.

James was amused, leaning with his arms crossed, but Steve looked… almost angry.

“Wondered where you’d gotten to.”  James commented, walking over to Tony’s bed to kiss Darcy hello.  He didn’t seem to mind that Tony still had his head pillowed on her chest.

“I’m sorry,”  Darcy told him seriously.  “I had a mission.”

“Mmhmm.”  James agreed, laying down on the other side of Darcy with his head on her shoulder, taking the bourbon from her hand and setting it on the bedside table.  “Hi Tony.”

“Ah-- Hi.”  Tony agreed, a little taken aback at the way James had just casually crawled into his bed but willing to roll with it.  He glanced at Steve hopefully.

Steve was still leaning in the doorway, and Darcy wished she could will him into a state of relaxation.  He had gotten better since he’d started sleeping with them, especially about touch, but there was still a barrier that he kept up between himself and other people.

She was pleasantly surprised when he came and sat on the edge of Tony’s mattress, his eyes darting around the room.  There wasn’t that much to look at-- everything in Tony’s suite was minimalist, sleek and tucked away.  Even the bed was that way with smooth sheets and blankets someone else had tucked in.  It was like a hotel room.

“So,”  Darcy said, scrolling through the web browser on her phone.  “Who should we do next?  I’m thinking General Ross, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Oh my god, please do Ross.”  Tony begged, clutching Darcy’s shirt for emphasis.  Darcy saw Steve glance over at them, at Tony’s hand so close to her breasts, and he got that look again-- something that was almost angry.

“I’ll do Ross, if you do that thing that you’re avoiding doing.”  Darcy offered, and Tony went all tense again.

“I… Look, I’m going to do it.  I mean, eventually.  Not right now.”  He hedged, glancing at Steve and then away.  Darcy rolled her eyes and wiggled the phone at James, who put it on the nightstand obligingly.

“Noooooo…”  Tony protested, but there wasn’t much heat behind it.

“Steve,”  Darcy demanded, waving her hands at him,  “Come hug.”

He looked at James under her left arm and Tony under her right.  “...How?”  He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“There is a lot of very comfortable stomach realestate available.”  Darcy informed him.  Steve looked at Tony, and then he laid down on top of her.  He wrapped his arms around her hips, his face resting on her stomach.  Maybe it should have felt suffocating, his weight, but Darcy had always liked to have a full bed.  It felt safe.

Tony was looking down at Steve’s head a few inches from his hand as if Christmas had come early this year.

Darcy’s phone started to ring.

“Oh my god Tony, he’s calling back.”  She said, slipping her arm out from behind James to reach for it, using Steve’s weight as a ballast.

“There’s no way, we encrypted--”  Tony protested, but he could see the number on the screen.  “Don’t answer it, Lewis, I can--”

“I told you to trust me.”  Darcy reprimanded, and answered the call.

“It’s Gucci Mane.”  She said, and there was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Darcy Lewis.”  Hammer finally said, as if her full name was all the threat he’d need.  James perked up immediately, the amused look on his face giving way to sharp focus.

“Yeah,”  Darcy agreed, “You’re now rocking with the king of hearts.”  It was the same voice she had used to talk to Hammer’s secretary, as if everything she was saying was completely reasonable.  Tony made a horrible choking noise, but Steve and James just seemed confused.

“I don’t know where you got this number from… although I can make a very well informed guess.”  He continued.  “I know that you won’t call here again.  Will you, Miss Lewis.”

“If a rapper talk tough he gotta back up what he say.”  Darcy replied, and Tony wasn’t even laughing anymore, he was frozen with his mouth open completely unable to breath.

“I have every intention of backing up what I say.”  Hammer responded, his voice cold and threatening.  James gave the phone a hard stare, as if he could intimidate the man despite the distance.

“Why you standing there, man?  You can’t touch this.”  Darcy said, her professional voice still intact.  Steve looked like he was starting to get the joke.  He wasn’t laughing, but his face had the look of suppressed mirth.  Tony had rocked forward to laugh, curling his body like it was physically painful, and Steve had to put a hand out to steady him.  His palm seemed to span the entirety of Tony’s rib cage.

Darcy held the phone up to check.  “Oh, he hung up.”  She said, disappointed even though her MC Hammer lyric knowledge was at its limit.  She handed it back to James.

“Why--”  Tony seemed to be having an incredible amount of difficulty speaking.  “Why-- aren’t you-- my soulmate, Lewis.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Darcy knew what was going to happen.  Because Tony wasn’t wearing his cuff, his right arm inches from Steve’s face.

He looked-- of course he looked.  Everyone was curious about other people’s soulmarks.

Steve’s eyes ran up Pepper and Rhodey’s marks, and landed on ‘Mr. Stark’, two inches high, in his own looping handwriting.  His face went completely blank.

He looked at his hand on Tony’s ribs as if he’d never seen it before.  He pulled it back slowly.

“I have to…”  Steve said, and blinked, completely unable to come up with an excuse.  He looked at Darcy helplessly.

“Yeah, okay Steve.  See you tonight.”  She said, and he was out of the room as fast as he could get away.

On the bedside table, Darcy’s phone was ringing again.


	19. Johnny

After Steve left Tony moved rapidly from ‘pleasantly tipsy’ to ‘blackout drunk’.  Darcy eventually called Rhodey to take care of him, worried that he would end up choking on his own vomit or something else equally ridiculous.

“Are you sure?”  Darcy asked, curled up against James’s chest.  Rhodey waved a hand at her, turning Tony onto his side on the bed and brushing the hair back from his face.

“I got ‘im.”  Rhodey said, yawning.  He settled into a chair nearby, flipping open the cover on a tablet.  The light illuminated his face, and Darcy thought that he looked older than the last time she’d seen him.  It was late, though.  Maybe he was just tired.

Darcy was quiet on the way back to her room, her face pressed into James’s shirt.  She wasn’t surprised to find that Steve wasn’t there.  

“You asleep?”  James asked, tucking her hair behind Darcy’s ear.  She opened her eyes.  “No.”  She admitted, and hid her face again.  

James set her down on the bed without letting her go and laid beside her.  Darcy tangled their legs together, moving her arms from around his neck to his waist.  

They’d been sleeping together like this for a long time, but it was different when they were alone.  Especially after what had happened this morning.  She pressed herself closer to him, feeling surrounded by his smell, his warmth.

“Darcy,”  James murmured, threading his finger into her hair. Darcy made an acknowledging noise.  “How drunk are you?”

“...Why?”  Darcy asked, inhaling.

“Well, I want to make sure you’re going to remember.”  He said, pulling her hair so that her face tilted up.  When he kissed her, the pressure stopped, and Darcy found that she missed it.

“Oh, are you planning on being memorable?”  Darcy muttered, and James paused.

“I wasn’t memorable this morning?”  He asked, raising his eyebrows.  “I thought…”  James trailed off.  “Um.”

Darcy had to stop herself from giggling.  “No, you’re right, a good time was had.  By  _me_.”

James’s expression went from awkward to confused.  “...This is a problem?”

“Yeah, kind of.”  Darcy admitted, shifting her head back so she could get a better look at his face.  His hands were still fisted in her hair, and the movement made his fingers tighten reflexively.  “I feel weird about that.  Like I had this experience, and you were somewhere else completely for the whole thing.  It felt really isolating.  Like, I was sort of embarrassed about having enjoyed myself.”

James frowned.  “Darcy, I  _like_  doing things like that.”  He said, kissing the side of her neck.  Darcy shivered, and he laughed, short and low.

“I like touching you.”  He murmured against her skin.  “I like hearing the sounds you make.”

“I know,”  Darcy said, leaning into his kiss,  “I like doing things like that too.  Feeling a little left out here, Barnes.”

He sighed, his breath warm on her throat.  “Darcy, I don’t… I can’t.”

Darcy pulled away.  “Then I don’t think I can, either.”  She told him regretfully, kissing his cheek.  “I don’t want to be over here having feelings all by myself, James.  If we’re not both in this, I don’t want it.”  She rolled over so that they weren’t face to face, pulling her own hair hard in the process.  It felt way too good.

 _What the fuck am I doing,_ She thought, trying to get comfortable, so physically frustrated that it was impossible to fall asleep.  Especially with James at her back, obviously having the same problem.  She bit back the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and try to just  _make_  it happen.  She’d get off, and the distance between them would get even bigger.  She was a little disgusted with herself for even thinking about it.

She was grateful that James seemed to be taking her words at face value, because if he’d wanted to push it Darcy didn’t know how she’d have been able to hold out.  If she would have even really tried.

James seemed to have a much easier time falling asleep than she did.  Darcy couldn’t help feeling resentment when she looked at his calm, relaxed face.

 _You suck_.  She thought at him, as if he’d be able to hear.

Darcy was relieved when her cell phone started ringing after half an hour so she had an excuse to leave the room.

“Hello?”  She asked, trying to keep her voice down.  There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Wow, I’m sorry to call so late, I assumed it would go to voicemail because most people don’t answer numbers they don’t know?”  The voice was male, with the kind of self-assurance that usually rubbed Darcy the wrong way.  “Um.  Anyway, hello, my name is Johnny, you prank called my brother-in-law earlier tonight and now I love you.”

Darcy laughed, then covered her mouth to muffle the sound.  “Johnny Storm?”

“Yes.”  He confirmed.  “So, not to be weird about it, but do you wanna hang out sometime?”

“Hmm.  In what capacity?  Because I’m kind of involved.”  _With an asshole,_ Darcy added mentally.

“I am available for both friendship and dating purposes, wonderful stranger.”  Johnny promised.

Darcy thought about what she’d heard about Johnny Storm.  He definitely put the ‘mess’ in ‘hot mess’, but she tended to enjoy people like that.

“Yeah, okay.”  Darcy decided.  “Let’s be friends.”

“Excellent.  Petty vandalism, how do you feel about it?”  Johnny asked, and Darcy felt like this might be the start of a beautiful friendship.


	20. The Winter Soldier

Darcy and Johnny were like a lit match and gasoline together, which she found fantastic and everyone else found worrying.  Even Tony raised an eyebrow the first time Darcy came home with her hair singed and a wicked grin.

“So, Lewis,”  Tony said, walking into Darcy’s living room because she’d left the door wide open,  “I don’t want you to think that I’m not into this whole wind-swept, rebel without a cause thing-- because I am, I am 100% into it-- but like, what’s going on with you?”

“Tony, I have a lot of feelings right now.  I have  _all_ of the feelings.”  Darcy said, trimming the ends of her hair with a pair of scissors from her purse.  “And I need to either like, set things on fire, or I’m going to kill a man.”

“Ah,”  Tony said, sitting down on the other side of her sofa.  “So, things with Barnes, not so good.”

“Sometimes I look at his face when he’s sleeping, Tony, his stupid peaceful face, and I want to smother him.”  She said, her mouth twisting.  “Have you ever felt like ‘I don’t know if I want to kiss this person, or if I want to punch them in the face’?”

“...Yes.”  Tony muttered, making the same face as Darcy.  “I want to punch/kiss Steve so hard.”

“What is he doing to you?”  Darcy asked, immediately assigning blame to Steve.  Tony rolled his eyes.

“He’s just kind of pretending like he doesn’t know?  I mean, I know that was sort of my plan too, but now we both know, so that’s sort of pointless.  There’s been a lot of not-talking and then intense staring.”  Tony stared at Darcy in a smoldering way to illustrate his point.  Darcy made a disgusted noise.

“I hate them.”  She declared.  “They’re the worst.  Hi, I’ll just be over here, looking like the fucking platonic ideal of a human being, heart breakingly perfect, and  _then I’ll never let you touch me_.”

Tony looked at her sideways.  “So.  I hesitate to say this, but have you thought about ‘expanding your horizons’.”

Darcy sighed and put her face in her hands.  “I’ve actually been thinking about it a lot, but I feel like it’ll be a massive deal, like I’m setting some kind of ultimatum or something.  Everything else is totally fine.  He doesn’t do the whole scary wake-up thing at all anymore, he and Steve are super tight again… I think I’m the only one who has a problem with what is going on.  Do super soldiers not have a  _sex drive_?”

Tony nodded thoughtfully.  “You know what?  That’s bullshit.”

“Thank you!”  Darcy said, waving her hands for emphasis.  “It  _is_ bullshit.”

“It’s  _complete_  bullshit.”  Tony agreed again, gesturing almost as vehemently.  “What, are you supposed become like, a monk, waiting for him to get over his weird issues?  If he’s not going to sleep with you, you should get to sleep with someone else.”

Darcy felt like they weren’t just talking about James anymore, but decided not to bring it up.  “Yeah, but ugh, I feel like that is going to be a hella bad conversation.”

Tony shrugged.  “Well, maybe he’ll get overwhelmed by jealousy and get it fucking over with already.  I mean Jesus, he’s been here for months.”

“If I don’t get laid soon I don’t feel that I can be held responsible for my actions.”  Darcy agreed, but her stomach twisted at the thought of talking about it.

“No court would convict you.”  Tony said seriously.  “I mean, a man-- or a woman-- can only take so much before they _snap_.”

“So, you’re saying that you’ll visit me in jail.”  Darcy said, grinning.  “Where I will be, because I will have killed a man.”

“Wrongful conviction.”  Tony corrected.  “The court of public opinion will exonerate you.”

Darcy bit her lip, and Tony opened his arms to offer a hug.  Darcy leaned against him like a cat marking its territory.  

“He’s your soulmate, right?  I mean, you’ve gotta work it out somehow.”  Tony said, but Darcy thought he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Right.”  Darcy agreed, but her heart still sped up at the prospect.

 

The next time they were alone together, Darcy just blurted it out.  “So.  What are we doing?”

James looked between the window and the clock.  “Going to bed?”

“No, like, what are  _we_  doing.  What is this relationship.  Because we’re not having sex with each other, so are we just both  _not_  having sex, or can I…”

She trailed off, not wanting to say it, but James had clearly understood her meaning because he froze.

“What are you saying?”  He asked, and his voice was calm in a way that was frightening.  “You want to sleep with Johnny?”

“I-- Yeah, maybe.”  Darcy admitted, gripping the hem of her pajamas top so that her hands wouldn’t be visably trembling.  “I mean, if we’re not going to… I’m freaking losing it over here James, I can’t  _do_ this.”

He blinked very slowly.  “I tried.  You didn’t want me to.”

“That is  _not_ what happened, don’t you fucking  _dare._ ”  Darcy hissed, pointing a finger at him.  “You’re acting like… James, I want to have sex.  Preferably, with you.  That is not what you were offering.  You were acting like some fucking 1900s physician treating my  _hysteria_.”  She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, and immediately burst into tears.

“I just-- fuck.”  She said, wiping at her cheeks furiously.  “It makes me feel bad about myself, okay?  Like there’s something wrong with me for wanting you.  But that’s how I feel, and this-- it’s too hard, James, I can’t.”

“Woah,”  He said, pulling her against his chest.  To her shame, Darcy immediately started sobbing.  “There’s nothing-- Look, there’s something wrong with  _me._   It’s not you.  You’re not doing anything wrong.  I don’t know why…”  He swallowed.  “You’re perfect.  And I want you.  But as soon as I think about… I feel sick to my stomach, like it’d be the worst thing I could ever do to you.”

“Why?”  Darcy asked, being in James’s arms already having a calming effect on her.  She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her pajamas as discreetly as she could.

“...Because I’m disgusting.”  He said quietly, and Darcy inhaled sharply.  “You don’t know the kind of things I’ve done.  You’d never let me touch you again.”

“James, why do you think I don’t know?”  She whispered, and kissed his forehead.  He leaned into it, making a small noise in his throat.  “I know that you and Steve talk about the whole Winter Soldier thing a lot.  I just figured you didn’t want to talk about it any more.  I was waiting for you to bring it up.  But, I know.  And I could never think you were disgusting.”

“I didn’t used to be like this.”  He admitted, his voice so soft she could barely hear it.  “I can’t trust myself.”

“James,”  Darcy sighed, “I thought we’d been over this.  If I don’t want something-- if I don’t like it, and want it-- I’d say no.  I don’t need you to protect me here.”

He shook his head.  “I  _know_ that, in my head.”

“Okay.”  Darcy said, and tried to think of the right way to say it.  “James, have you thought about talking to someone?  Like, a therapist.”

“You think I’m crazy.”  He said, using that too-calm voice again.

“Do you think I’m crazy?  Because I had a therapist, for a few years.”  Darcy said, watching his face.  She saw his eyebrows move down slightly when he figured it out.

“The pills.”  He said, and shook his head, like he was chastising himself.

“Yep.”  She agreed.  He seemed to need some time to absorb it, so she let her head rest against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Was it because of my words?”  He finally asked, and Darcy rolled her eyes.  

“Oh my god, get over yourself.”

“Darcy,”  He chastised, and she huffed at him.

“James, you are not the only thing that has ever happened in my life.  And I think that a lot of it was just a brain chemisty issue, because as soon as I got on meds I was, like, way better.”

James grimaced, his eyes getting that blank look.  “I don’t want to take anything.”

“Totally understandable.  But would you talk to someone?”  She pressed.

“...Who?”  He asked, and Darcy’s heart lept, because that was basically a ‘yes’.

“I don’t know.  I bet Sam would know someone good.”  She offered.  “He does support groups for veterans and stuff, right?”

James didn’t exactly look happy about bringing someone else in on it, but he nodded, then took a deep breath.  “If I do it, would… Will you wait for me?”

Darcy bit her lip.  “James… I mean, yeah, if it’s something that we’re working towards, I would, but this needs to be about more than that.  Like, you have to want to do this because it’s what  _you_  need.”

“No,”  He said, resting his chin on her head.  “I know… I have to deal with this.”

“Okay.”  Darcy said, and they just stood there for a while wrapped around each other.

“So.  Is that why you’ve been hanging out with Johnny so much lately?”  James finally asked, and Darcy snorted.

“James, I think you are seriously underestimating how much I like setting things on fire.”

He smirked.  “Well, if that’s what you’re into, all you had to do was say so.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows.  “...Is this your way of asking to come with us?  Because you totally can.”


	21. Christine

Darcy had been waiting for Steve to find out about Christine Everheart since the first night Tony had brought her home, because he hasn’t really  _stopped_ bringing her home.  One of these days, they were going to run into each other.  Darcy didn’t know if she should look forward to it, or start making contingency plans.

She and Steve and James were walking to the kitchen to make breakfast, which was a small miracle because they were  _all_ walking to breakfast.  James doesn’t talk much about what he’s been doing in therapy-- it’s sort of like the wind.  Darcy just feels the effects of it without seeing where it’s coming from, and one of the major ones has been that he has stopped carrying her everywhere.

There is an incredibly lazy part of her that sort of misses it.

When they walk in, the kitchen is destroyed, like someone threw flour on every surface and then rolled it in something sticky.  Tony is leaning against the counter with flour in his hair and what is obviously an entire egg ground into the front of his T-shirt, barefoot in low-slung pajama pants.  Christine looks a little more put together for someone who has obviously just been in a food fight, and Darcy mentally crowns her the victor.  They’re eating from the same plate with their fingers-- or possibly feeding eachother.  To Darcy’s relief, Tony pops the piece of waffle he was dragging through the syrup into his own mouth.

James looked amused, but Steve didn’t seem to know if he was shocked or just really, really angry.  Darcy cleared her throat, and Tony and Christine noticed them.  Christine raised her eyebrows at Darcy, taking in the fact that there are  _three_  people in their pajamas.  Darcy smiled back in a way that she hoped would communicate  _Ha, I wish._

Tony just looked like he was trying to remember to breathe.

“Hey Tony.  Hey Christine.”  Darcy said, giving them an awkward wave.  Christine’s eyes darted from Darcy’s face to Steve’s obviously clenched fists, and she stuffed a strawberry in her mouth like she was trying to use it to silence herself.

“Darcy!”  Tony said, too loudly, an edge of panic to his smile.  “Good morning.  We were just leaving,”  He told Christine, who got up from her bar stool with the piece of fruit still in her mouth.  “So, we’ll be doing that now.  Leaving.”

The way that he looked at Darcy couldn’t have screamed  _Help me_  any louder if she was a mind reader.

“Oh sweet, can we use the rest of your waffle stuff?”  Darcy asked, taking in the mess of the countertops.  “I’ll clean up if I can have the batter, I’m too lazy to make my own right now.”

“Yes.  Absolutely.”  Tony said, looking relieved.  Christine made a sound like a muffled snort, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him from the room.

James shrugged and went over to the sink to wet a rag while Darcy surveyed the damage and pretended not to notice the way Steve was clenching and unclenching his hands.

“So, hey.”  She said, tipping one of the bowls left on the counter to examine its contents,  “Waffles.  It looks like our options are… vanilla, or chocolate chip.”

James, wiping something that looked like blackberry jam off of one of the cabinets, paused to consider.  “Both.”

“Okay, both for you.”  She agreed, looking at Steve.  “Steve, do you have a waffle preference?”

“I’m not hungry.”  Steve said, carefully skirting the stool that Christine had been sitting on.  He found a clean seat on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Darcy rolled her eyes when she was sure he couldn’t see her, and made him one anyway.

They were actually really good, especially considering that Tony had left them with any topping you could conceivably want on a waffle.  Darcy went with whipped cream, honey, and fruit.  James had inhaled his first with whipped cream and jam and was now experimenting with the chocolate sauce.

Steve cut his waffle up and then just kind of looked at it.

James finished his second waffle and then stared at Steve poking morosely at his food.  He let out a long, annoyed breath.

“Steve,”  James said bluntly.  “You’re being an asshole.  Eat your fucking waffle.”

Steve looked up, startled.  “I--What?”

“You’re being an asshole.  You’re doing your whole betrayed sulking thing.”  James repeated.  “You used to do this shit to me all the time when I’d take girls out.  You didn’t want me to find you a girl.  You didn’t want me to sleep with anyone, and  _you_  sure as shit weren’t going to sleep with me.  What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?  You can’t expect people to just  _wait_.”

He reached over, grabbed Darcy’s hand, and kissed it.  “Maybe they will, but don’t act like you just have the right to  _demand_  that.  Man can’t live by bread alone.”

Steve’s face was white.  “You-- How much do you remember?”  He asked, looking almost scared.

James shrugged.  “Some, I’ve been working on it lately.  It’s kind of spotty.  But I definitely remember  _this_ shit.  You’re not being fair.  It’s not like you have some kind of an agreement in place and he’s violating it.  You barely talk to the man.”

Darcy felt like her mouth might be hanging open.  She decided to follow Christine’s example, and stuck a strawberry in it.

“I talk to him.”  Steve protested, and then looked taken aback by their incredulous stares.

“Steve, you don’t really talk to anyone.”  Darcy said, reluctant to get in the middle but feeling obligated to do it anyway.  “I mean, I don’t know, maybe you talk to Sam about stuff.  Or James when I’m not here.  But mostly I feel like people have to kind of figure out what you want, because if they ask you get weird about it.  Not everyone’s good at that.   _Some people_ ,”  She emphasised, “Might be afraid of offending you, or maybe  _some people_ have a hard time interpreting those kind of social cues.   _Some people_ do better with clearly communicated boundaries.”

“Tony?”  Steve asked, looking confused.

“ _Some people,_ ”  Darcy said severely, while nodding.  “Are good friends of mine, and so I could never betray their confidence by talking about them.”

“Ah-- Okay.”  Steve agreed, and then hesitated.  “I didn’t know that ‘some people’ were interested in men.  In that way.”

“Some people are very flexible in that way.  Some people could, potentially, be interested in a lot of things.”  Darcy informed him.  Steve nodded, absorbing this.

“Some people seem very confident?  I may have assumed that some people weren’t interested because some people seem very uncomfortable when I try to...um… When I’ve flirted with him.”  Steve was developing what looked like a full body blush, his neck almost as red as his face.

“Some people are really not confident.  Some people put up a front so that other people don’t know that they are very insecure.  Some people might have been afraid of reacting too strongly and scaring you off, so some people may have frozen and done nothing.”  Darcy said, and squeezed James with the hand he was still holding because she thought that if she showed Steve how excited she was he might think she was messing with him.

Steve looked down at his waffle.

“Okay.”  He decided, and took a bite.


	22. Sue

Darcy was having a lazy morning with a cup of coffee and some art supplies, trying to recover from a night of small explosives and being screamed at by Johnny's sister, when Tony burst into her livingroom with an expression of utter panic.

“Are you alone? Is-- no one else is here, right, we’re alone?”  He asked, scanning the room frantically.  Darcy, sitting on the couch with the coffee table pulled close so she could make a collage, raised her eyebrows.

“James is at an appointment.  What’s up?”  She asked, watching Tony walk around the room in the manner of a man pacing out the size of his prison cell.

“ _Steve’s doing weird things to me_.”  He finally whispered, looking down the hallway to her bedroom as if he thought she was secretly hiding him back there.

“...What kind of weird things?”  Darcy said, not sure if she wanted to hear this.

“Like… look, it’s just  _weird_ , okay Lewis?  I thought, with the Christine… But he’s not?”

“...Is there a complete thought that you would like to express?  Because ‘he’s not’ what, mad about it?”  Darcy said, exasperated.

Tony just looked at her helplessly.

_Fuck it, it worked before._

“Maybe,”  Darcy suggested, “ _Some people_ realize that since the two of you aren’t in a relationship, that it would be unreasonable to be angry with you.  Maybe  _some people_ are trying to be friendly.”

“I-- No.”  Tony denied, pushing his arms out in front of himself like it would deflect that bad thoughts.  “No, this is not  _friendly,_  Lewis, this is like…”

“ _Some people,_ ” Darcy said even louder, glaring at him, “Have been trying to flirt with you the entire time.  Some people have assumed that you weren’t into it, because they interpreted this stupid dithering thing you’re doing as ‘discomfort’ and ‘lack of interest’.  Certain  _other_  people may have encouraged some people that this was not the case, Tony,  _and if you fuck this up again I swear to god I’m done helping you_.”

Tony sat down on the floor.  “Oh.”  He said in a small voice.

Darcy went back to cutting out pictures of ballgowns to glue onto her vision board.

“Hey Darcy?”  Tony finally asked.  Darcy looked up.  “How long have I been an idiot?”

“I don’t know…”  Darcy said thoughtfully.

“I’m going to fuck it up.  I don’t know if I can have that and then  _not_ have that.”  He admitted, giving the wall a thousand yard stare.

“Well, he’s your soulmate, right?  You’ve got to work it out somehow.”  Darcy said, grinning, and Tony gave her an unimpressed look.

“So, things with Barnes, better I take it?  You seem less combustible.”  Tony offered, and Darcy looked down at her scissors, feeling weirdly shy.

“Yeah, I mean, taking it slow, so.  We went on a date yesterday?  There were flowers.”  She decided not to mention the date had included Sue yelling at them for 'making her stupid goddamn brother look comparatively normal'.  And explosives, but there had _also_ been flowers.  

“Oh my god, he’s  _wooing_  you, Lewis.  He is pitching 1940s  _woo._   Make him take you dancing.”  He demanded, looking a little delighted.

Darcy looked down at her collage.  “Dude, what do you think I’m doing right now?”

“Cutting out pictures of dresses?”  Tony suggested, and looked closer at the piece of cardboard she’d been gluing it to.

“It’s a vision board, this is my date vision.”  Darcy gestured to the plates of delicious food next to a bouquet of lilies, and the men in tuxedos holding silver trays.  “I am willing this into being.”

Tony nodded.  “I could see it.  Maybe I should make one.”

“Maybe you should stop sitting on my living room floor and go get your man, before James and I just absorb him like an amoeba.”  Darcy suggested.  Tony laughed.

“I am so serious right now.”  Darcy said, giving him an unblinking stare.

“--What?  No, you wouldn’t do that.”  He disagreed, a little scared.

“Wouldn’t I, though?” Darcy asked, raising an eyebrow.  She looked down at the tiny suited man in her hands, and cut his head off.

Tony opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and left the room.

“Fucking  _finally.”_   Darcy muttered, and went back to her collage.

 

When James got back from therapy, he’d cut off all his hair.

“ _Woah,”_   Darcy said, dropping her scissors.  In jeans and one of Steve’s old T-shirts, he looked… like Bucky.

“Hey doll,”  He said, kissing her hello before he sat on the sofa.  “What’re you doing?”

“Ah-- nothing, just some art thing.”  Darcy said, still a little stunned.  She hesitated.  “So, you’re very handsome right now.”

James raised his eyebrows.  “Are you trying to say I’m not usually handsome?”

“Getting less handsome.”  Darcy informed him, although really that smirk was kind of doing it for her.  James seemed to know it, because he kissed her-- not a kiss hello, but a  _real_ kiss, with tongue and teeth.

Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his soft, short hair.  And he let her.

“...We’re in the livingroom.”  He said reluctantly, pulling back.  Darcy shook her head and pulled him close again.

“Trust me, Steve’s busy.”  Darcy whispered, and bit his neck.

 


	23. Iron Man

_The proximity alarm is designed to ruin my life_ ,  Darcy thought, pulling her shirt back on while James tied her shoes.  He went to pick her up, and then hesitated.  “I don’t know where we’re going.”  Darcy told him, and wrapped her arms around his neck.  He boosted her onto his hip and they left the room at a run.

The only thing that comforted Darcy in her frustration was the knowledge that somewhere, Steve and Tony were experiencing the same thing.

Outside the tower, something exploded, close enough that the shockwave rattled the glass, and Darcy flinched reflexively into James’s shoulder.  It wasn’t the explosion itself that startled her-- she’d gotten more than enough experience with those since she’d met Johnny.  When she glanced back and saw Iron Man zoom past the window, Darcy realized what it was.   _It’s because they’re out there._

She wondered where Steve was.

James hit something on the wall and then cursed.  “Sealed.”  He muttered, and sprinted towards the stairs.  Darcy could hear echos from the lower floors, voices calling out commands, but their section of the stairwell was completely empty.  James seemed relaxed, under the circumstances, which Darcy took as a good sign.  He seemed very focused, but it wasn’t in that automated way-- his eyes were tracking.

The next safe room opened to reveal Pepper sitting in a comfortable chair, reading a magazine with a picture of Tony on the cover.

“Oh, hello Darcy.  James.”  Pepper said, giving them both a nod and setting her magazine on the floor with the page she’d been looking at dogeared.

He set her down and then hesitated in the doorway, glancing between the safe room and something down the hallway.

“Do you want to go help Steve?”  Darcy asked, and his eyes snapped back to her face.  “Because I’m fine here.  If you want to go do that, you should.”

“But--”  James started, and then shook his head like he was dislodging something.  “Okay.”

He took a step forward and kissed her fiercely, his hands clutching the sides of her face like he had to keep her there.  Darcy covered his hands with her own, and he loosed his hold on her.  “I’m fine here.”  She told him again.  James closed his eyes.  “I know.  I know that.”  He said softly, and pushed her into the safe room.

After the door closed, Darcy turned to find Pepper watching her, chin pillowed in one hand.

“Well,”  She observed,  “That was very romantic and dramatic.”

“Very dromantic.”  Darcy agreed, taking a seat,  “Also, why does this room have chairs?  Because I’ve grown accustomed to a sort of barren, completely empty white place aesthetic in my safe rooms.”

“Because this is  _my_ safe room.”  Pepper said, retrieving her magazine from the floor.  “We have video feed too, if you want to watch.”

“Mmm… No, I don’t want to.”  Darcy decided.  “It’s not like we can do anything.”

“Not usually.”  Pepper agreed.  “It makes me tense, so I rarely use it.”

“It’s very ‘waiting for the sailors to come home’.”  Darcy curled up in her chair, trying to get comfortable.  “Like, I need a widow’s walk to pace on.  There could be picturesque sighing.”

Pepper looked up from her article with a smile that was a little bitter.  “That would be nice.  If that was all it meant to be the support system.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows, waiting for the rest, and Pepper abandoned her reading.  “I’ve been doing this a long time.  And at first there’s something a little exciting about it-- at least you get to have the whole romantic reunion after it’s all over.  But in the long term… it’s awful.  I hate having to spend half of my life watching something hurt him.”  She looked down at the soulmarks on her arm, Tony’s handwriting in one block down her forearm.   _Brilliant and beautiful.  Much too good for me._   Happy’s were swirled around her wrist, his penmanship surprisingly neat.   _Oh, let me help you with that._

“Is that why you married Happy?”  Darcy asked, and Pepper touched his words.  

“Yes.”  She admitted.  “I can support Tony while he does this.  I can run his company, I can deal with the board… but I can’t…”  She sighed, trying to gather the words together.  “I can’t keep putting him back together.  It’s too intimate.”

“Yeah.”  Darcy said, not because that was how she felt, but because it made sense to her for Pepper.  Pepper had always reminded her of the description of Wendy’s mother in Peter Pan, like there was a hidden kiss in the corner of her mouth-- an inner self that she was always holding back.  Happy seemed to worship the ground that she walked on, and maybe that was better for her than being with someone who would constantly try to break her barrier down.  Safer to stay on the pedestal.

“That’s not how you feel, though.”  Pepper observed, and Darcy laughed, a little caught off-guard.

“If there was any way in hell they’d let me, I’d want to help too.”  Darcy confessed.  “I mean, not like ‘throw myself off of buildings’ help, but, I can do useful stuff.”

Pepper nodded, considering.  “You’d make a good liaison.  Or a handler.”

Darcy snorted.  “Yeah, Fury already tried barking up that tree.  I’m not into being SHIELD.  And I’m already a Jane-handler.”

“There is a lot more to things like this than SHIELD.”  Pepper said, raising her eyebrows.  “Public relations, disaster relief management…”  She trailed off when something shook the building hard enough to shift Darcy’s chair several inches.

“Ms. Potts, I am afraid that there may be a situation developing.”  J.A.R.V.I.S’s voice sounded strange, something obviously interfering with his signal.  “Despite my best efforts, I believe that a breach of this safe room’s security overrides may be iminent.”

“I see.”  Pepper said, sounding calm, but Darcy could see that her breath had sped up.  “What can you tell us about the intruder?”

“He does not appear to be human.  I am uncertain how to classify him.”  J.A.R.V.I.S admitted.

Pepper kicked off her heels, and started dragging the chairs into one of the corners. “Barricade.”  Darcy realized, and started to help.  As they huddled behind their improvised barrier, Darcy expects to hear some sound-- scraping, things blowing up-- some evidence that outside, something is breaking in.  But there’s nothing, until the soft whoosh of a door opening.

And then, a sound Darcy recognizes.  It’s hard to articulate what about it is so recognizable, the tink-tink of metal hitting the floor and rolling, but she’s heard it before.  As soon as the grenade (or whatever weird alien version of a grenade this is) hits the floor Darcy is over the barrier and throwing it back, bowing the outside wall when it explodes.

 _Thank God for Johnny Storm,_ She thinks, feeling strangely sick.  When she looks down at her hands, Darcy sees they’re covered in some kind of blue gelatine that seems to be absorbing into her skin.  The edges of her vision started to go black.

Outside the room, something screams.

 

“--threw it back.”  Steve is saying, his tone disapproving.  Darcy is immediately sorry to be conscious again. There is an incredibly painful hot-cold thing going on with her hands, and when she tries to move, she finds that she can’t.

“What do  _you_ think she should have done, Steve, thrown herself on it?”  James said sarcastically, his hand gently smoothing the hair back from Darcy’s forehead.  

“Of course not, I just…” Steve sighed, “She did the right thing, of course.  But her hands…”

“Bruce said they’d be fine.  They’re already a lot better.”  James said, still stroking her hair.  Darcy tried to open her eyes again and failed.  “She’s fine.”

“Bucky,”  Steve said, hesitation in his voice, “You know that this is not your fault, right?  Without your help, I don’t know if  _any_ of us would have made it.  You did the right thing.”

“She told me to.”  James said, his voice soft.  “She said she’d be fine, and she’s fine.”

Darcy, frustrated at her paralysis, let out a huff, and James’s hand stilled.

“Darcy?”  He asked, touching her face.  “Steve, I think there’s something wrong.  It looks like she’s trying to move and she can’t.”

“I think… Bruce!”  Steve’s voice went up in volume, and Darcy heard footsteps approaching.  There was a low conference outside of her hearing.

“She might be having a negative reaction to the pain medication.”  Bruce murmured, and Darcy heard a beeping.

The hot-cold feeling became just heat, and Darcy tried not to whimper.  “Why is that beeping?”  James demanded, his hand leaving her face.  “Is she in pain?”

“Until we can find a better medication, yes.”  Bruce said, his voice calm.  Darcy opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision.  Steve was standing with his hand on James’s arm, as if he thought he needed to be restrained. “But it seems like she can move now.”

Darcy glanced down at herself.  Her hands were suspended in vats of something green, the skin ragged, but she seemed to have all of her fingers.  The front of her shirt has a hole in it, as if someone had thrown acid on her.

“Huh, that’s disgusting.”  She observed, watching a piece of her skin float on the surface of the green liquid.  Her voice has a raspy quality to it, but it sounds alright.  Actually looking at her injury seemed to make it burn a little less.

She turned her head to look at James and Steve, who were both staring at her intensely.  Darcy raised her eyebrows at them.  “So, you’ll be feeding me, apparently.  Can this be like, sexy feeding, and not old-person or baby feeding?”

Steve laughed, turning a little red.  “I’m sure arrangements can be made.”  He said, glancing at James.


	24. The Human Torch

After about the first hour, Darcy was done with being unable to use her hands.  Unfortunately, Bruce said she had to keep her hands in the green stuff for a least 48 hours ‘to be on the safe side’.  The burning had morphed into an intense feeling of itchiness, which was somehow worse, but that wasn’t the issue.  It seemed impossible to be annoyed by two handsome men who wanted nothing but to conform to your every whim, and yet, if she could have, Darcy thought she would have thrown something at them.

What Steve and James were doing was several orders of magnitude beyond mother henning.  Darcy was afraid to make a facial expression, because they were both so  _attentive_.  It was a measure of her desperation that she felt relieved to see Johnny.  

“Hey loser,”  He said cheerfully, propping one of his feet on the edge of her hospital bed and opening a box of chocolates to pop one in his mouth.  “I heard you set your hands on fire or something.”

“Alien grenades are coated in some weird flesh eating jello bullshit.”  Darcy told him, shrugging in a way that made the new skin on her hands stretch pleasantly.  “The more you know.”

“Hmm.”  He agreed, leaning forward to take a closer look at the tanks her hands were encased in.  “That’s pretty gross.”

“Dude you should have been here when my skin was like, molting or whatever.  It looked like my hands were one of those blooming tea balls.”  Darcy informed him, eyeing the chocolate.  “So, if those aren’t cherry cordials, I want some.”

“ _Please._ ”  Johnny said, making a disgusted face as he selected another piece of candy.  “The only thing a maraschino cherry belongs in is a French 75, and even then just  _barely._ ”

“What about sundays?  Or like, a banana split?”  Darcy asked curiously, taking a bite from the marzipan truffle he held to her mouth.  Johnny shook his head.

“Whipped cream, yes, nuts, yes, chocolate sauce, hell yes.  Maraschino cherry, no.  Also no on the banana, I’m not a fan for some reason.”  He popped the rest of the chocolate into his mouth and offered her another.

“Interesting.  What about the sundays that are on top of a brownie?”  Stretching her neck out to reach the chocolate was, sadly, the most exercise that Darcy had gotten in the last day and a half.  

Johnny pursed his lips thoughtfully.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had that, but it sounds like something I could appreciate.  Let’s do it, when you’re not chained to your bed like one of Pepe Le Pew’s girlfriends.”

Darcy groaned.  “But when will that  _be_ , Johnny.  I know it’s been like, a day and a half, and I’m supposed to get to be done tomorrow, but how do I know I’m not in some kind of Groundhog Day time loop?   _Maybe it will never end.  Maybe this is my life now._ ”

Johnny grinned.  “Ah.  James driving you fucking crazy?”

“ _Everyone_ is driving me crazy.  Except maybe Bruce.”  Darcy added, to be fair.  “Like, Steve won’t stop arranging my pillows to make sure I’m ‘comfortable’, and Tony keeps sending down weird health drinks…”

She hesitated to even describe what James had been doing.  When he was in the same room as her he kept staring at her intensely; then he would abruptly leave.  When she asked Steve about it, he’d said he was ‘handling it’, which had not really reassured her.

“Well…”  Johnny looked at her hospital bed speculatively.  “I think I could probably liberate you, if you wanted.  We could keep the tank things on your hand and I could just melt the--”

“I don’t think so.”  Steve said from the doorway in his Captain America voice.  Johnny slunk down in his seat like a dog who had just been caught pulling out all the couch stuffing.

Darcy sighed and slumped back against her pillows.  “Steve, I thought you loved freedom!”

“I do.”  He said, not at all amused as he walked over to position himself protectively by her bed.  Anyone but Johnny would have shrunk from Steve’s look of intense disappointment.  He  _did_ stuff two pieces of chocolate into his mouth, which made Darcy think Johnny was a stress eater.  “I love my loved ones getting appropriate medical attention even more.”

“Aw, am I your loved one?”  Darcy said, actually a little touched.  “Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you.”  Steve said, looking slightly confused.  “Did you not know that?”

“Oh man, I want to hug right now, and I can’t.”  Darcy complained, flopping her useless arms, “Curse the confines of my appropriate medical attention.”

To her surprise, Steve leaned over and kissed Darcy on the forehead.  “I love you, Darcy Lewis.”  He said seriously.  “You are an important and valuable person in my life.”

“ _He’s so sincere._ ”  Johnny stage-whispered, another piece of chocolate inches from his mouth.  “ _I don’t know how to deal with this._ ”

Darcy smiled.  “Steve, is this a me-almost-dying thing?  Because I like, barely almost died.”

“No.  It’s a telling the people who matter to you that they’re important thing.”  Steve replied, pushing a piece of hair out of her face.  “You’ve always put forward a lot of effort to include me in your relationship with Bucky.  And… you know, things with Tony.”  He turned a little pink,  “You’re not my soulmate, but, I don’t know what my life would be like right now without you in it.  What Bucky would be like.  You’re very important.”

Darcy felt like she might cry.  “Aw, Steve.”  She said, and looked down at her hands in their tanks.  “This is seriously not fair, now I have all of these feelings.”

“We’ll hug it out later.”  He promised, and Darcy had no idea who had taught him that phrase, but she hoped it was Tony.  Steve glanced at Johnny frostily, but stepped aside.  “I’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your friend in private.”

Johnny watched Steve leave the room looking a little shellshocked.  “That… was very uncomfortable.”  He observed,  “I am uncomfortable.  Is he always that  _earnest_?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”  Darcy said, watching Johnny polish off the last of his chocolates.  

He shook his head in bafflement.  “Just like, here are my guts everyone!  Look at all of my  _genuine emotions._   My god, the man has  _no_ self preservation skills.”

Darcy snorted.  “Dude, did you not go to history class or something?  Remember the whole ‘plane into the ocean’ thing?”

Johnny wrinkled his nose.  “Ugh, true, but still.  When you see it in person…”  He dusted off his hands and threw the empty candy box into the trash, then headed for the window.

“Um… What are you doing?”  Darcy asked, watching him boost himself onto the heater by her window to pop the screen out.  Johnny grinned over his shoulder.

“Expressing my emotions!”  He shouted over the roar of the wind, and jumped.

The building opposite the tower burst into flames a few seconds later, in the shape of a heart.


	25. The Hulk

Darcy woke up to James staring at her.  On any other day she would have held out her arms, but she was still immobilized by the tanks on her hands.  It made her feel strangely vulnerable to voice it.

“Hug me?”  She asked uncertainly.  James stared at her for long enough that she thought he wasn’t going to do it, then got slowly to his feet and crawled onto the bed.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her stomach like he was hiding there.  Darcy wanted to stroke his back and run her fingers through his hair.  The impossibility of expressing her emotions physically made her feel helpless in a way that being unable to feed herself hadn’t.

 _So, use your words,_ she chastised herself.  Her room in the medbay was private, but there was something about it that felt exposed.  Maybe it was the lights, so bright in contrast to the the darkness outside her window.  She remembered the way that Johnny had jumped out of it and felt envious of his freedom.

“God, I want  _out_  of these things.”  Darcy whispered, looking down at James and wanting to touch him so much that she felt panicky.   “I feel like I can’t breath.”

James turned his head so he could speak without muffling his voice into her stomach.  “They used to hold me like that.  Sitting, but, so my hands couldn’t move.”

His staring took on an entirely new context.  

“I want to take you out of here,”  He continued, without looking at her, “But you need this.”

“I-- yeah I do.”  Darcy admitted, feeling ashamed of her claustrophobia.  Of how much she wanted to say,  _Yes please, take me out of here, I can’t stand it anymore._

He seemed to feel the change in her breathing and pulled himself higher, so that his full weight was on top of her.  It should have been smothering, but Darcy found herself relaxing under the pressure of his body.  “You don’t have to do that all the time.”  James said, his head pillowed on her chest, so that she felt the vibration of his words along with the sound.  “Be fine.  It’s okay to be not-fine.  It doesn’t always have to be you that holds it all together.”

Darcy tried to laugh, but it came out choked.  “I think I said that to Steve.”

James snorted.  “Yeah, he’s stupid like that too.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows.  “Are you calling me stupid?”

“You’re an idiot.”  He confirmed, and kissed her collarbone before nuzzling his face into her neck.  She could smell his hair or something on his skin that was clean and spicy.

Darcy sighed.  “Yeah, okay, I’m an idiot.  I kind of… wanted it to happen.  Not like, this part of it,”  She moved her arms,  “But I wanted to do something useful.  I hate just sitting in a room doing nothing.”

James shifted so he could look at her face.  “Gonna take the SHIELD job?”

Darcy wrinkled her nose.  “Ugh, is that my only option?  Because I’m not really big on the shadowy government organizations.”

He shrugged with his mouth.  “Maybe not.  Think Stark’s been planning to take things private.”

Darcy considered that, along with what Pepper had been saying in the safe room before it got less-than-safe.  “I could work for Tony.”  She said, trying the idea out.  “Wait, how does ‘privatizing’ global security even work?”

“Who fucking knows.”  James muttered, and kissed her neck.

“Being his accountant must be horrible,”  Darcy observed, leaning into his kiss, “I bet he tries to write off all his Iron Man expenses as a charitable donation to the world or something.”

James shifted on top of her, trying to get comfortable. “Tony thinks his existence is a charitable donation to the world, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Oh god, please say that in front of him.”  Darcy murmured, starting to fall asleep.

 

Bruce was way too chipper first thing in the morning.

“Ready to get out of these?”  He asked, smiling, while the florescent lights stabbed through Darcy’s eyes and straight into her brain.

“Mmges.”  She said, trying and failing to cover her eyes with her arms.  James shielded her eyes with his metal hand, yawning into her neck.

Bruce popped open the tanks and Darcy almost groaned at the relief of being able to change positions again.  They had done their best to support her arms, but her shoulders still ached.

Her skin felt a little itchy, but when she flexed her hands there wasn’t any pain.  When they were wiped clean, she could see the scarring, deep red welts spider webbing out from her palms like a lightning strike.

“Huh.  Cool.”  Darcy said, turning her hands around to examine the backs.  They were pale, the skin soft and sensitive.  “James, pet my hand, it feels like a baby.”  She demanded, holding one out.  He obliged by kissing it.

When she looked back at Bruce, he was holding the edge of the table beside her bed, breathing like it was a struggle.

“Why didn’t I check,”  He said, swallowing hard.  “After the other medication’s reaction, I should have  _checked._ ”

“James,”  Darcy said, trying to sound calm over the sudden spike of fear flooding her system, but he was already snatching her off the bed.

The roaring started before they were out of the room.


	26. Natasha

When Bruce and Natasha found her the next day, Darcy was lying on her living room floor watching Dog Cops and playing with the baoding balls Jane had bought her as a get-well gift.  She had almost worked out how to circle them around her palm without making any sound.  

At the knock Darcy rolled onto her back.  “It’s open,” she called, expecting Tony with something else disgusting he thought she should drink.  Bruce entered uncertainly, glancing around Darcy’s bland livingroom like he thought he might be in the wrong place.  Natasha didn’t seem to have any reaction at all, standing lightly on the balls of her feet just inside the door like a chaperone.

“Hey Bruce,”  Darcy said, sitting up,  “You feeling better?”

“Yes,” He said with a little grimace, “And I’m sorry.”

Darcy waved at him.  “It’s fine.  I mean, no one got hurt, right?  And look,”  She opened and closed both hands, “Everything works just fine.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that.  As your doctor.”  He said, sitting down on the couch.  Darcy glanced at Natasha.

“I’m here as… moral support.” She said, obviously changing the ending of her sentence halfway through.  Bruce gave her an amused smile.

“Natasha is here in case anything happens.”  Bruce said, tenting his hands.  “I wanted to make sure you’d feel comfortable having me here.”

Darcy reached out to squeeze his knee, and Bruce looked momentarily confused by the contact before he smiled.  “Bruce, I’m not scared of you now.”

“Maybe not.” He admitted,  “But I feel better having Natasha here, if you don’t mind discussing this in front of her.  Everything we talk about will still be confidential.”

Natasha shut the door and leaned against it, as if to demonstrate her commitment.  

Darcy shrugged.  “Okay, shoot.  Something up with my hands?”

“In a way.  How technical do you want me to be?”  Bruce asked, rubbing a hand hard against his temple like he was staving off a headache.

“CliffsNotes version?”  Darcy tried, and he nodded.

“Okay.  The substance we were using on your hands has very powerful healing properties.  With enough of it, it’s been possible to heal… almost any injury.  When you had an abnormal reaction to your other medications, I should have checked, but I have never seen anyone have a negative reaction to bacta before.”  He lifted his hands helplessly.  “It didn’t even occur to me that it could be the source of the problem, because you hands were still healing.  Not perfectly, but better than any other treatment I would have had available.”

“ _I_  think it looks cool.”  Darcy said, and looked down at her palms and their dark red centers.  Bruce gave her a small smile.

“I wish scarring was the only concern.  The batch of bacta that you were exposed to was contaminated, which has caused you to develop a severe reactive allergy.  If you’re ever exposed to it again, in any capacity, it’s very likely that you’ll die.”  Bruce reached into his back pocket to pull out a length of chain.  When he handed it to Darcy, she realized it was a medical alert bracelet.  “I’ve flagged your medical records, and at this point it’s not commonly available, but… bacta is the future.  Any advanced facility will be using it.”

“So it’s like being allergic to aspirin and penicillin, but way shittier.”  Darcy guessed, fastening the bracelet on her left arm.

“Way shittier.”  Bruce agreed.  “So try not to touch any more alien grenades.”

“But it was so great this time!”  Darcy protested.  Bruce smiled reluctantly, and stood.

“Just so you know, James and Steve and Jane… and possibly Tony… will probably want to bombard you with questions about this.”  Darcy said, shaking her bracelet at him.  “So, prepare yourself for that.”

“I appreciate the warning, but you’re a little late.   _That_  has never stopped.”  Bruce said, and Natasha stepped aside to let him out the door.  He raised his eyebrows, but seemed content to leave without her.

As soon as Natasha shut the door behind him, she turned to stare at Darcy.

“You reminded me of myself.”  She said, and Darcy tilted her head at the other woman, confused.  “It’s why I’ve been… strange with you.  It was a mistake.”

“...How do I remind you of yourself?”  Darcy asked, baffled.

Natasha gave her a long look, then rolled up her left sleeve to expose a soulmark.  In one straight line, it said,  _Go.  Leave me, before they kill you._

“I always knew, when the time came, that I would do it.  Leave them.”  Natasha mused, looking down at the words.

“But you didn’t.”  Darcy said, not certain why she was so sure.  Natasha smiled, something soft in her face that was quickly covered.  “No.”  She agreed.  “I didn’t.”

“I knew James.  When he was the soldier.”  She commented, rolling her sleeve back down.  “And you seemed so… innocent.  I interfered.”

Natasha shook her head, looking at something beyond Darcy.  “You protect by fostering strength, not weakness.”

“I’m not weak.”  Darcy told her, and Natasha smiled.

“No, kotyonok.  You’re not.”  She agreed.  “And if you would like to be even less so, come to me.”

She was out the door before Darcy could respond.

“Huh.”  She said out loud, and looked down at her new bracelet.  Bruce had engraved it with her name, her shiny new allergy, and the Avenger’s hotline. 


	27. Captain America

James didn’t seem to notice Darcy’s bracelet until it was digging into his shoulder in bed.  He turned her wrist to look at the writing, tracing his fingers over the Avenger’s hotline number.

“Bruce gave it to me.”  Darcy murmured sleepily, trying to snuggle back into James’s side.  Steve was sleeping somewhere else tonight, and she’d been hoping for something more exciting than cuddling, but it didn’t seem to be in the cards.  James seemed afraid of her hands.  Not afraid to be touched, exactly, but afraid that any touching would hurt her.  The skin was incredibly sensitive, but… it didn’t seem fragile.  Just new, like a baby’s skin, very soft.  She’d touched his metal arm and gotten the smallest mark-- nothing more than a papercut.  But it had been enough to make James leery about her touching him, even on his skin.

She wanted to chalk it up to his old hesitation, but it didn’t seem to spring from the same source.

“It’s good.”  James said, still stroking her bracelet.  “In case anything happens.”

He moved his hand to her face, and Darcy turned her head to kiss his palm.  When she reached to press her own fingers against them, he flinched.

Maybe her skin wasn’t the only thing that felt vulnerable right now.

He kissed her palm, right in the center of its scars, and tucked himself around her like a barrier that would keep everything else out.

 _I’m not weak,_ Darcy reminded herself as she fell asleep.

 

The first thing Natasha does is give Darcy a pair of gloves.  They spend the rest of the morning trying out different fighting styles, trying to determine what Darcy’s niche might be.  She’s not particularly fast, or particularly strong, but in the end they find something she’s good at.

It turns out to be jujitsu, or something close to it.  It doesn’t take strength to break a wrist, or speed-- it takes sensitivity and attention to detail, knowing the right place to apply pressure.

When Clint and Steve show up in uniform, Natasha is on her back with her legs wrapped around Darcy’s hips.

“I am in the stronger position,” Natasha informed her, demonstrating how easy it can be to shift out of the way of a blow.  “What should I do next?”

“Probably kick me in the junk?”  Darcy suggested, and Natasha smiled.

“...I am both turned on and frightened.”  Clint observed from the door to the gym, his arms crossed over his chest.  Steve was wearing the suit, the cowl pushed back from his face.  His expression was hard to read even so, as if he were schooling it to be blank.

Natasha rolled her eyes before getting to her feet.  “Suit up?”  She asked Steve.  He gave a terse nod and Natasha headed to the locker room.  Darcy had come down to the gym already in her sweatpants, so she had nothing to change out of.  She pulled the gloves Natasha had given her off her hands, uncertain if they were intended to be a loan.

Clint frowned, reaching out to turn Darcy’s medical alert bracelet into the light.  “Well.  Shit.” He said, glancing at Steve.  “You know about this?”

Steve nodded, still with that strangely motionless face, and Darcy tilted her head at him.  “Steve?  Are you okay?”

“...Yeah.”  He said after a long pause.  “Actually, Darcy, can I speak to you in the hallway for a moment?”

“Sure,”  Darcy agreed, casting a sidelong glance at Clint, who suddenly seemed very interested in something on the wall on the other side of the room.

Darcy followed Steve out into the hallway, and he took a deep breath before turning to face her with the air of a man facing a firing squad.

“I kissed Bucky.”  He said without preamble.

Darcy felt her mouth drop open.

“Just now.”  He amended, looking uncomfortable.  “I-- This is going to be a long mission, and I just-- So, I’m telling you about it.”

“...Wow.  Okay, readjusting my world view, hold on.” Darcy said, putting up a hand.  Steve’s eyes seemed to lock onto her scars.

“Okay, okay.  So, do you guys want to….?”  Darcy trailed off.

“I-- I’m not sure.”  He admitted.  “I haven’t really-- it just sort of happened.”

“Okay.”  Darcy nodded, biting her lip as she mulled it over.  “So, I guess we can all talk when you get back.  Um, is Tony going to be in on that?”

“I don’t know.”  Steve admitted, his face going blank again.

“...Does he know about this yet?”  Darcy asked, frowning.  Tony didn’t seem like the type to get scared off by a little making out among soulmates.

“...No.” Steve said.  

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “Dude.  Call him before you leave.  Like, right now.  Or things are gonna get weird, because we’re totally going to have to talk about at least  _some_ of this shit without you.”

“Okay,”  Steve said, giving her a short military-style nod and pulling out his cellphone to walk down the hallway.  Darcy ducked back into the gym to give him some privacy to find Clint not-so-subtly listening to their conversation.

“Oh, come on, who could pass that up?” He asked, completely unabashed by Darcy’s stare.  “As soon as J.A.R.V.I.S. said you were in the gym with ‘Tasha he got his ‘don’t let the enemy see your fear’ face.”  

He shoved her suggestively with his shoulder.  “Sooo… This is an interesting development.”

“Interesting to  _you_?  Because I don’t see how you’re involved.”  Darcy said, shoving him back.  

Clint gave a long-suffering sigh.  “Oh, fine, make me get it all out of Steve.  I mean, we might all die first, but fine, leave me unsatisfied.”

“Good luck getting it out of Steve.” Darcy said, half serious.  Steve could probably use more friends to talk to, and Clint seemed to have a pretty laissez faire attitude towards life.

By the time Natasha came out of the locker room Steve was back, looking tense but less blank.  Natasha and Clint both gave Darcy a smile on their way out, but Steve just turned to leave, all the muscles in his back drawn together in defense.

“Steve!” Darcy protested, and when he turned she held out her arms.  There was more than a little relief in his face when he pulled her into a hug.

“It’ll be okay.  Whatever it ends up being.”  She told him, trying to squeeze the tension out of him.  “Be safe.”

“Thank you.  I’ll do my best.” He promised.


	28. Iron Patriot

Johnny was circling the tower while Darcy dropped fireworks on him when Tony found her on the roof.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw what she was drinking.  “Clint’s rum?  I thought you were a woman of sophistication, of  _taste,_ Lewis.”

Darcy shrugged and took another swig straight from the bottle.  “I am also a woman of limited financial means, and I didn’t know if you wanted to deal with me right now.”

Tony sat down and handed Darcy a pint of ice cream.  When she looked down at it she snorted.  “Rum raisin?”

“It seemed appropriate.”  He said, popping open his own pint and setting an extra spoon between them.  Darcy poured half of her rum directly into her ice cream and started to eat the slush.  Tony watched her looking vaguely disturbed before trying it out himself.

“This is disgusting.”  He observed, taking a bite.

“This is not about enjoying food, Tony.”  Darcy informed him, bringing the carton to her mouth to drink.  “This is about eating our feelings.  And drinking them.”

She leaned over the edge and dropped a string of firecrackers.  Johnny dutifully lit them, and she could hear someone in a nearby building start to shout.

“So.  What do you want to do?”  Tony asked, dropping a roman candle.

Darcy looked down at the ice cream in her lap.  “I’m doing it.”

“...I can’t believe I’m the one saying this,” Tony said, looking a little horrified at the position he was forced to champion, “But I don’t know that drinking is the solution we’re looking for.”

“Ugh, you mean we have to like,  _talk_  about it?  I don’t waaaaaant to.” She whined.

“Maybe it’ll be great.  I mean, hey, threesomes, right, everyone loves threesomes.  Or foursomes.”  Tony pointed out, undermining himself by immediately taking a huge bite of rum/ice cream.

“I mean, sure, Steve’s hot,”  Darcy conceded, “And obviously you and I get along, I’m sure we could work something out, but… I mean, that’s getting dangerously close to an Avengers hat-trick.”  Darcy mused, sticking another spoonful of rum raisin into her mouth.  “I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Hat-trick means you’d have to sleep with three of us.  We’d have to add Barnes to the lineup,”  Tony argued, frowning.

Darcy tried to look innocent, poking a blob of ice cream with her spoon.

Tony turned to stare at her, his mouth open as he worked it out.

“You--” Tony pointed at her frantically, spilling alcohol onto the carpet in the process.  “ _Oh my god you put the ‘try’ in triangle_.”

“I don’t know why you’re acting so shocked, it was your suggestion.” Darcy pointed out, taking another sip of her rum float and making a sour face.

“But-- Okay, when, where, what, how, I need  _details,_  Lewis, I need information.”  Tony demanded, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Hang on, I gotta see if Jane’s okay with me taking the privacy filters off with you.” Darcy said, pulling out her phone to send a text.  Her phone chimed back with an answer almost immediately.  “Wow.  Okay, she says it’s fine if you promise not to ever talk to her about it under any circumstances.”

Tony crossed his heart with his spoon.

“When, for a few months, where, here obviously,”  Darcy ticked off of her fingers, “What… Um.  Well, so, I don’t know if we’ve been over this before, but Jane is like, painfully straight.”

“Uh-huh…” Tony made a leading gesture with his hands.

“So, okay, she and Thor were all about each other, and and I felt kind of… extra.”  She shrugged, swirling her spoon.  “And I guess we thought maybe it would help?  But it didn’t really end up being the thing.  Like, I mean, Thor is obviously hot, that was not the issue, it just felt kind of weird.  When James showed up I think we were all kind of relieved.”

“I cannot believe I did not know about this.  I mean, so many missed opportunities!”  Tony lamented.

“And  _that_  is why you did not know about this.”  Darcy pointed out.

Tony winced, obviously picturing Jane at her most furious.  “I see your point.  Yes.  I could not have handled it.”

“No.  You could not have.”  Darcy agreed.  “But, I don’t know.  I guess I feel like ‘been there, done that’?”

“Yeah.”  Tony said, kicking a mortar down to Johnny.  “Same.”

They sat in contemplative silence punctuated by the occasional small explosion.

“I can’t tell him ‘No, don’t do that’ though.”  Tony said, taking a swig from the bottle of rum.  “I mean, how can I?”

“Yeah…”  Darcy agreed, lying back so she could watch the clouds go by.  “I know.”

 

By the time James found them Johnny had gone home and Darcy had thrown up twice.  She was sucking on a peppermint Tony had given her, lying down with her eyes closed to make the spinning stop.

“Lewis, your ride’s here.”  Tony said, nudging her foot with his own.  Darcy was mildly surprised to find that neither of them were wearing shoes.

“Did we throw our shoes off the roof?”  She slurred curiously, and Tony made a confused noise, closing his eyes again now that his work seemed to be done.

When James picked her up, Darcy snuggled into his chest.  It was good that he’d stopped carrying her all the time, but on some level she’d missed it.  Being his security blanket wasn’t the best thing to be, but if it meant that he needed her, she’d take it.

She must have drifted, or fallen asleep, because the next thing Darcy was really aware of was James tucking her into bed and holding a glass of water to her lips.

“Drink this for me, doll,”  He murmured, ignoring Darcy’s grumble of protest.  “Just one glass, okay?”

Tipping her head back made Darcy feel dizzy, but she swallowed it down obediently, enjoying the way he stroked her hair afterwards.  She put her hand to her mouth and blew a kiss in his general direction.

She heard him sigh as he settled in beside her.  “So.  You’re pretty upset.”

“Nooooooo.”  Darcy protested, patting his face.  “No no no no.  You should do whatever.  All the things you want to do. ‘s okay.”

“I don’t know what you think I want to do.”  James said, kissing her forehead softly, “But this does not seem like ‘okay’ to me.”

“No,” Darcy protested, and then stopped, not certain what her argument was.

“This probably isn’t the best time to talk about this.”  James admitted softly.  “But I don’t think this is going to be what you think it is.  It was just a kiss.  Doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

There were a lot of arguments in Darcy’s head, but they felt so far out of reach.  She just shook her head.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”  He promised, rubbing her back.  She gave up and burrowed into his warmth, feeling comforted.

 

When they met Tony in his lab around noon the next day, he looked as shitty as Darcy felt.  Rhodey was sleeping in a pile of blankets in the corner with a flower stuck in his close-cropped hair.

The Iron Patriot armor was being repainted in the center of the room, deep black scratches marring the surface, but the metal itself seemed unscathed.

“Can’t talk about it.” Tony said to Darcy’s inquisitive glance, pouring her a mug of coffee.  

She inhaled it.  “Rhodey is Tony’s third.”  She explained to James, who seemed taken aback by the man in the corner.

“He sleeps like the dead.”  Tony informed them, pulling up a stool at the counter.  “So we can talk here if you don’t mind.  I’m kind of in the middle of some things right now.”

Darcy looked at James, who lifted his shoulders indifferently, and they took a seat.

“So, I’m going to be the one to blurt it out.”  Tony said, shooting Darcy a glance, “I don’t want to share.”

James took Darcy’s hand and rubbed his thumb soothingly over her wrist.  “I don’t think it’s going to be an issue.  I’m still not really ‘there’.”

“What does  _that_  mean?”  Tony said, tapping a screen that popped up in front of his face to make it disappear.

“It means that I don’t think we’re going to be having sex.” James said bluntly.  “Because so far, I haven’t been able to do that with anyone.”

“ _What_?” Tony said, zeroing in on Darcy.  “I thought you guys had…?”

“We’ve been working up to it.”  Darcy said defensively, and James brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

“If I wanted Steve involved with us, I would have suggested it back then.”  He said, kissing her hand again for emphasis.  “I would much rather… I like Johnny fine, but--”

Tony mumbled something about a hat-trick and Darcy kicked him under the table.

“I’m not gonna say that there isn’t something romantic there, because there is.  And I… enjoyed the kiss.”  James admitted, looking uncomfortable.  “But I don’t want more than that.”

“Don’t just say that.”  Darcy told him, feeling guilty about how relieved she felt.  “If you want to-- it would be okay.”

“I don’t.  And it isn’t.”  He said firmly, squeezing her fingers.  “I know you don’t want this.  It was just a kiss.”

Tony pursed his lips consideringly.  “I could be okay with just kissing.”  He offered.  “Throwing that out there.”

“What, like as a regular thing?”  Darcy clarified.  When Tony nodded she raised her eyebrows.  “Huh.  Like, making out kissing, or like kiss hello, kiss goodbye kind of kissing?”

“Second one.  I mean, I still kiss Pepper, it’s just not ‘sexy’ kissing now.”  Tony said.  

Darcy thought about it.  “I guess that would be okay.  I kiss a lot of people that way.”

James inclined his head in agreement.

Tony shook his head.  “Weird.  Did we just all agree on a situation that doesn’t make any of us secretly miserable?”

“Steve’s not here.”  Darcy pointed out.

“Well if  _Steve_ wanted to be included in the conversation, then  _Steve_ shouldn’t have done this right before he had to leave for however-fucking-long.”  Tony said, jabbing at a keyboard.

“Tony is not very happy with Steve right now.”  Darcy observed, and James let out a huff that was almost a laugh.

“No, Tony is not very happy with Steve.”  Tony agreed.  “I don’t think anyone is very happy with Steve right now,  _including_  Steve.  In fact, fuck Steve.  Can’t I just get whatever Lewis first said to me tattooed on my arm, and we’ll call it good?”

“You really want a tattoo that says ‘I don’t think Jane is black enough’?” Darcy asked skeptically.

“For you, anything.”  He promised, staring soulfully into her eyes.

“I’m really not into facial hair.”  She teased.  “Like, at all.”

“It’s gone, it’s yesterday’s goatee.” He assured her.  “I give good wedding, I’ve demonstrated this, say yes.”

Darcy glanced down at her hand, fingers still intertwined with James’s.  “I think I’m spoken for.”

“Fine, fine, ride off into the sunset, leave me here.  Alone.”  Tony started to project his voice.  “With Rhodey, who is also forever alone.”

“Am not.”  Rhodey muttered from his blanket nest.  “I am very popular with the ladies.”

“Knew you were eavesdropping.” Tony muttered.  “Okay kids, Rhodey and I have to do the whole suit thing now.”

On the way back to her rooms James didn’t carry her, but they walked hand-in-hand.


	29. Falcon

Darcy wakes up in the middle of the night to James stroking her hair absently, like he’s been doing it for hours.  When she opens her eyes he kisses her.  It’s meant as a hello, and it feels that way at first-- a soft brush of his lips that became deeper until Darcy couldn’t press herself close enough, making little sounds in the back of her throat.

James pulled back and cupped her face with his hands, stroking his thumbs across her jaw.  He stared at her face like he was going to say something, but instead he just kissed her again sweetly, trying to slow things down.  Darcy tried to take the hint, but she kept moving against him, sliding her hands around his waist to feel the muscles in his back.  There were a few scars that she could feel by their raised outlines, the skin’s texture, and she traced them up to the juncture of his shoulder.  When her hand found the place where the metal joined his flesh James stopped kissing her but left his face close, breathing fast.

“Is this okay?” Darcy whispered, kissing his chest through his shirt.  “Don’t let me do things you don’t want.”

James shook his head, staring at her face like he wanted to memorize her expression.  When she pulled at the hem of his shirt with her free hand he pulled it over his head.

Darcy tried not to focus on just the scars, running her over the lines of his stomach.  When she passed over his chest he sucked in the faintest breath, and she paused, then brushed her thumbs over his nipples.  James made a sound low in his throat and rolled on top of her, pinning her hands above her head.

“James,” She protested, tugging lightly at his grip.

“I know,” He said, breathing hard, “Just… I need a moment.  And then you can.”

“Okay,” Darcy agreed, and relaxed into his hold.  She kissed his neck softly, and when he didn’t protest, let her mouth move lower to his collarbone, his chest, until she was pressing her lips against one of his nipples.  When he didn’t stop her, Darcy took it into her mouth and began to suck.

James made a gasping noise, and she could feel the muscles in his abdominals shaking, like he was struggling to hold still.  Darcy shifted her hips up against him, and his fingers tightened on her wrist reflexively.

“Darcy,” He whispered, “I need… I know you want your hands.  Can I have one, though?”

Darcy pulled back to blow on the wet skin around his nipple, and he shivered. “Yes.” She murmured, moving to the other side of his chest.  When he released her right hand, she started to pull her pajama bottoms down.  Wiggling out of them made her writhe against him, and she felt him twitch in surprise.

James had buried his free hand in her hair, and his twitch pulled it a little.  It felt like scratching an itch, and Darcy found herself leaning her head to pull it harder.

“Doll,” He said sharply, and Darcy stopped everything, not sure what part of it he hadn’t liked, looking up at him guiltily.  James shook his head and kissed her gently in apology, winding his hand more tightly into her hair. “You’re sure.”

Darcy twisted the arm he was holding down to wrap her fingers around his hand, stroking the metal.  “Of course.”

James pressed his face into her hair and inhaled her smell, as if it was calming.  “Okay.” He whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers.

 

They ran into Tony in the kitchen a few hours later, and he whistled, long and low.  Even if they didn’t keep glancing at each other and smirking, the hickies would probably be a dead giveaway.

“...I am not sure who I should be congratulating here.  Both of you?”  Tony held up his hands for high-fives.  Darcy rolled her eyes, but gave him one.

“Okay, no high five for Barnes, I respect that, Darcy’s a lady.”  Tony said, nodding to James.  “Can I interest you in a celebratory cupcake?  Waffle?  Baklava?  Work with me here.”

“You have cupcakes?”  Darcy looked around hopefully.

“I’ll order them.”  Tony promised, ruffling her hair.  “So, can we try this kissing thing?”

Darcy glanced at James, who shrugged complacently.  She wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck and kissed him loudly.

“Good for you, kid.”  He said, squeezing her back.  When he let her go, James made a face.

“...I don’t know if I want a kiss.”  He admitted, but he held open his arms, offering a hug.  Tony looked surprised, but accepted it, snickering when he was lifted off of his feet.

“Yes, you’re very strong, we’re all impressed.”  Tony patronized, patting James’s shoulder, but Darcy thought he’d enjoyed it.

“So, if you’ve got nothing to do right now, I could actually use you guys for a thing.”  Tony admitted, walking back to the counter to finish his waffle.  When Darcy looked hopefully at the bowl of batter he waved a hand, giving her the go-ahead.

“What’s up?”  She asked, pouring batter into the hot waffle iron.

“I kind of agreed to help Steve’s buddy with his tech,” Tony muttered into his coffee mug, “And I feel like if you guys are there he’s not going to go for the smalltalk.”

“Sam?” At Tony’s nod she frowned.  “Yeah, sure I guess?  Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

“So, I don’t know how you missed it, but my boyfriend,” Tony tapped his chest before gesturing to James, “Made out with your boyfriend.  And while I’m so chuffed you guys are good,  _I’m_  still pretty ‘not good’.”

Darcy popped James’s waffle onto a plate and started on her own.  “I can see how hanging with his best bud could get weird.” She acknowledged, sucking on a finger she’d burned.  “Where’re you doing it, the lab?”

Tony held up his coffee and lifted his eyebrows, getting Darcy a mug of her own when he walked across the room for a refill. “The roof.”

Darcy and James headed up first while Tony met Sam in the lobby.  Someone had tidied up the mess she and Tony had made, the cement scrubbed clean.

When Darcy climbed onto the ledge to kick her legs against the side of the building James clamped a hand on her arm.  “I’m not going to fall off.”  She protested, wiggling to show how firm her seat was.

“Then pretend I’m just being unreasonable.”  James said, kissing the top of her head and getting a grip on her other arm.  She leaned back against him, appreciating his warmth.

The view was amazing, and by the time Sam and Tony banged the door open Darcy had forgotten about them.  She jerked in surprise hard enough that James had to steady her.

“Shut up.” She muttered turning around so he could help her off the ledge, and he smirked.

Sam was wearing a pair of the wings she’d seen on the DC news, although these looked both stronger and more minimalist, lighter.  When he saw them he waved, a frown notching his forehead.

“Hey guys,” He said, glancing from their joined hands to Darcy’s neck.  She raised an eyebrow and he made an apologetic face immediately.  She wondered how Steve had managed to find someone just as awkward as he was.

“Hey Sam.  What’re you guys doing?” She asked, wrapping James’s arms around her stomach so she could use him as a windshield.

“Some not-so-safe safety testing.”  Tony said, adjusting something on Sam’s back to tighten the straps across his chest.  “Don’t tell mom.”

“Would mom be Pepper in this context, or Steve?” She asked, trying to imagine whose reaction would be worse, and Tony winced.

“Both.  Okay,”  He gave Sam’s shoulder a slap, “You’re good to go, see how it feels.”

After the first hour of testing, Darcy is bored and begging Johnny to come hang out with her, sitting on James’s lap for warmth.  The Falcon wings they’re working on seem to be having power issues so that Sam occasionally falls a few feet dramatically before they restart, but he's good at gliding, and none of them are too concerned when he starts to drift towards the edge of the building.

When he falls, James is the first to react, but he doesn’t get to the edge in time.

Tony is shouting for J.A.R.V.I.S and one of his suits when Sam’s hand grabs the ledge, and James hauls him up.

He sits down like his legs don’t work, sweat coating his face.  “Fuck, I thought I was dead.”  He gasped, pushing his goggles up into his hair.

“How-- it’s still not powered up?”  Tony demanded, unclipping the wings from Sam’s back and slamming them down before attacking them vindictively with a screwdriver.

Johnny landed on the roof grinning, still a little on fire.  “Thermal dynamics!  Good thing your buddy knows how to ride an air current Stark, I’m not usually good with the rescue,” He gestured down to his flaming pant leg, “Being, you know, a little too on fire for most people.”

“Thanks for the assist, hotshot.”  Sam said, trying to smile, although he still looked ashen.

Darcy’s mouth fell open.  “Holy  _shit._ ”

Johnny just stared for a moment.  “Well, at least we can both fly.” He said finally.

Sam looked like someone had slapped him, glancing at Johnny’s arm to see his soulmark.   **Thanks for the assist, hotshot** , swirled around Johnny’s forearm like a cyclone.

“Fucking Johnny Storm.”  He muttered, covering his eyes with a hand.  “My mother is going to die laughing.”


	30. Reed

As soon as Sue heard about Sam, she insisted on having a party, so that he could ‘get to know everyone’, which would have been fantastic, if ‘everyone’ hadn’t included Reed Richards.

Johnny’s grip on Darcy’s arm when he drags her behind the punch bowl is nothing if not desperate.

“Help me,”  He pled, “Make it stop.”

Darcy glanced across the room to where Reed was talking at an increasingly bored looking Sam.  It seemed like Sue was at least  _trying_  to stop him, her hand resting on his arm in a quelling fashion-- Ben was just watching with a huge grin on his face as if this were the highlight of his evening.

“He won’t shut up, and Sue is just  _letting him_ , and Ben just keeps making disgusting jokes about gay sex…”  Johnny trailed off, watching Sam react to something Ben had just said with an impassive face and defensively crossed arms.

“Disgusting?  I thought you were hetero-flexible?” Darcy said, probing shamelessly.  Johnny had always seemed very lady-oriented, sexually, but she didn’t want to pigeonhole the man.

Johnny waved his hand in a ‘kind of’ gesture.  “It's not the gay part that's disgusting.  What about him, do you know?”

“Eh, ostensibly straight, but I’ve seen him look at Steve’s ass.  I think you have a shot.”  Darcy watched Reed clap Sam heartily on the shoulder, and Johnny winced.

“Everyone looks at Captain America’s ass, that’s not a fair litmus test.”  Johnny protested, but he looked slightly cheered by the news.  “Don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want to see that face again.”

“Steve’s fathomless disappointment face.”  Darcy nodded, remembering her few painful brushes with it.

“Yes.  I cannot handle that again.”  Johnny said seriously.  “Now, will you please help me.”

Darcy sighed.  “Okay.  Be ready to bolt.”

Darcy walked over to Reed, and said the words she knew she had to say.  “So, Reed, I read your thesis, and I wanted to ask you about--”

Darcy didn’t have anything to say after that, but with Reed, you never needed to.  He began arguing with himself without any further impetus.  “You see, the common misconception--”

Sue’s polite mask almost slipped when she looked up halfway through Reed’s second reiteration of his point to discover that both Sam and Johnny had slipped away.

She latched onto Darcy’s arm and pushed her off to the side with a grip so firm that it was impossible to twist out of.

“Darcy,”  Sue said sweetly, once they were out of Reed’s earshot, “Thank you.”

“Ah-- What?”  Darcy said, nonplused.

“Thank you.”  Sue repeated.  “I wanted to create a good impression on Johnny’s new… Sam.  Obviously, that wasn’t happening.”

“Um.  Okay.  You’re welcome?”  Darcy replied, not sure how to handle Sue Storm being nice to her.  It must have come across, because Sue made a little face.

“I know… I guess we haven’t made that good of an impression on you either.”  Sue admitted, and looked over her shoulder to check Reed’s location.  She lowered her voice.  “ _I thought the prank phone call was funny._ ”

Darcy grinned.  “Really?  I thought you were super pissed about it, especially after that one day…”

Sue bit her lip.  “I’m sorry about that.  I… Well, Johnny’s kind of all I have, and he doesn’t have the best self preservation skills… I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“What do you mean?  I thought you and Reed…?”  Darcy gestured at her own soulmarks, not sure how to ask without being too invasive.

Sue looked around again guiltily, and then rolled up her sleeve.

The words _So, does this asshole ever stop talking?_  peaked like waves around Sue’s arm.

“Shut  _up_.” Darcy said, delighted.  “So you haven’t met them yet?”

“No,” Sue admitted, covering her forearm hurriedly, “But, it’s pretty obvious who I’ll be with when I do, so… Reed doesn’t like people to know.  That we’re not,” She copied Darcy’s gesture, “You know.”

“I’ll keep it under my hat.”  Darcy said, nodding.  

“I’d appreciate that.”  Sue said, and laughed a little.  It bothered Darcy to see the way she looked over her shoulder afterwards.  She was starting to understand why Sue’s power had been invisibility.  “I’m glad we could… I don’t know.  Get to know each other better?  Johnny could use more good friends.”

“Hey.  You should give me your phone number.”  Darcy said, pulling out her cellphone.  “So we can have coffee sometime, or something.”

“Sure…” Sue agreed, confused but willing to program her number into Darcy’s phone.  “I think I’d like that.”

When Darcy texted her so Sue would have her number as well, she smiled shyly, then looked back at Reed and sighed.  “I better go rein him in.” She muttered, walking away with a little wave.  Darcy watched her go with a frown on her face before looking for James.

He was leaning his back against the wall by the entrance, even more obviously bored than Sam had been.  When Darcy slid her arms around his waist he perked up visably.

“We can go.”  Darcy informed him,  “Since Johnny has very sensibly fled, I believe my friendship duties are at an end.”

“Thank god.”  James said, casting a disgruntled glance at Reed.  “I know he’s not talking to me, but that guy…”

“I know.  He like, basically created a supervillain by just being an asshole.”  Darcy said, wrinkling her nose.

James nodded as if that made perfect sense.


	31. Hawkeye

Darcy would never say that Steve was in the way when he was around.  He was incredibly necessary to James, and there was something different about his expression when Steve was in the room.  It was as if he were always looking for him when he wasn’t there.

But in the two weeks he was gone, they'd developed a new rhythm, and Darcy liked it.  She liked what their mornings had become, the long slow lovemaking.  She liked the way it felt like  _dating_  now.  They had gotten into the habit of being in each other’s pockets, but now it was so intense that they both needed some time apart.  And that was good too.

There were were women in her life now.  Jane had never gone away, but Darcy had to admit that the whole James/Steve thing had kind of taken over her life.  When she wasn’t at the lab, she was with them, and… that was pretty much it.  Drinking with Tony was the closest thing she’d had to a social life for months, and as great as Tony was, it was nice to have girlfriends again.

The first time Pepper had taken Darcy out to lunch it had been almost oppressively fancy, with silverware and cloth napkins and menus written in French.  It was like her vision board date had come to life-- admittedly, no man in a tux, but Pepper Potts was almost as good.  

They start going out every couple of days.  Darcy learned how to eat lobster with a fork, and that she might actually like wine.  (It turns out it only tastes like someone poured vinegar into grape juice when it’s cheap.)

She’s not sure what Pepper’s getting out of it.  At first it seemed like a ‘thanks for the grenade’ thing, but… it kept happening.  So the next time, she invited Sue.

Pepper is very discreetly day drunk when they walk into the lobby, her cheeks a little pink but her gait unaffected-- Sue and Darcy were more obvious, but she felt they were still comporting themselves with dignity.

Well, until Sue started laughing so hard she had to sit down in the middle of the room, but in her defense, Darcy  _was_ being especially hilarious.

And that is the moment when Steve, Natasha, and Clint come home.  Darcy is trying to pull an almost hysterical Sue Storm to her feet in the middle of the lobby and failing, while Pepper watches with an amused smile that is one bad pun away from laughter.  

Darcy loses her balance and stumbles into someone who steadies her with a firm hand on her back.  When Darcy turned to thank them, Steve smiled down at her uncertainly.

“Hey!”  She said, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing.  He smelled like metal and something acidic, but she buried her face in his chest anyway.

He rubbed her back with some of his old stiffness.  “Hey Darcy.”  He glanced at Pepper and Sue, who was still giggling , her hand pressed over her face as she tried to calm herself.  “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.  Just having lunch.”  Darcy said, turning to wink at Sue and Pepper, who headed to the elevator banks without them.  “I think James is hanging out with Tony in his room, if you want them.”

“I-- both of them?”  He said, a few different things flashing across his face.

“Sure.  I mean, I think you’re not their favorite right now, but  _we’re_  all fine.”  Darcy paused to consider, “Well, I think mostly you’re not Tony’s favorite.”

“Not-- So, you all talked?”  Steve asked, swallowing like he was afraid of the answer.  Darcy looked over his shoulder at Clint, who was eavesdropping shamelessly.  She didn’t see Natasha, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Yes.”  Darcy said, nodding her head to indicate their audience, “And I think we should discuss this in the elevator.”

Steve glanced at where Darcy had nodded and gave Clint a disappointed stare.  He slunk off after giving Darcy a betrayed look.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Darcy turned.  “So.  We don’t want to share, is kind of the long and short of it.  Kissing’s okay, though.”

Steve blinked, then turned red.  “You thought-- Is that what Tony thought?  That I wanted us all to…”

“Well, you kinda kissed and ran, buddy,”  Darcy patted his arm,  “So, yeah, assumptions were made.”

Steve covered his face with his hands.  “Oh god.”

Feeling that there was nothing Darcy could say that would be reassuring, she elected to stay silent.

Tony and James were sitting on the floor around his coffee table playing poker.  Darcy wasn’t sure what they were using for currency-- she was pretty sure they had some sort of favor system going on, but it wasn’t something she wanted to examine too closely.

James raised a hand to Steve, who had frozen at the entryway.  “Hey Lewis, come look at how completely I am  _owning_ your boyfriend.”  Darcy let him give her a kiss hello, his mouth tasting like whiskey.  She sat down next to James, and he did the same.

Steve looked completely shellshocked.  “I-- wow.  Things have changed.”

At the sound of his voice, Tony’s hand jerked so hard he spilled liquor down his arm.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you fuck off for two weeks, Rogers.”  Tony said, setting his drink down and getting to his feet.  When he pulled Steve into a rough hug, he let out a sudden breath.

Steve returned the embrace, his fingers clenching the fabric of Tony’s shirt so hard his knuckles looked white.  

Darcy grabbed James’s hand and pulled him towards the doorway.  As the door closed, she saw Steve bury his face in Tony’s neck.

“Clint,”  Darcy sighed, noticing the way that James was staring at the ceiling vent in the hallway, “Stop it.”

There was a moment of silence before Clint popped the screen and dropped to the floor, still in his Hawkeye uniform.

“So.  You’re kissing Tony now.”  He observed, following them into the elevator.

“Are you jealous?”  Darcy asked, leaning her head on his shoulder and blinking up at him flirtatiously,  “Do you want to be kissed?”

Clint glanced over and James, who looked utterly unconcerned.  Then he glanced down at his left arm, still covered by its arm guard, and Darcy remembered Natasha’s soulmark.  On her left arm.

“Shut  _up._ ”  She gasped, and Clint’s eyes went wide,  “You and--”

He slapped a hand over her mouth, looking panicked.  “ _Don’t say it_ ,” He hissed, “We have a bet going.”

James snorted, and Clint turned to give him a look of outrage.

“It-- she  _told_ you?”  Clint demand, and Darcy thought that James was perilously close to rolling his eyes.


	32. Thor

Darcy walked into the common room and  stared at the drink in Jane’s hand in horror.

“Darcy!”  Jane waved, tipping sideways into the man sitting on the couch beside her.  Clint raised his glass with a smirk.

“Clint,” Darcy pulled the bottle of whiskey off of the coffee table and tried to assess how much was missing, “How much did you give her?”

“Not that much.”  He said, frowning at her tone.  He turned to look at Jane, who was moving a hand in a wave pattern in front of her face.  “There’s no way she can be that drunk already!”  He protested.

Darcy sighed and pulled out her cell phone.  “Clint, Clint, Clint.  I thought you were a better secret agent spy thing than this.”  She shook her head, tapping out a text to Thor.  “You can’t drink with Jane.”

Clint poke Jane in the face, and she tipped back against the armrest of the couch with a snort of laughter.  “Incredible.”  He said, shaking his head.  Darcy relieved Jane of her drink and finished it herself.

“So,” She sat down at Jane’s feet, legs crossed, “You get anything out of her?”

“I was working up to it.”  Clint muttered, rubbing a hand across his face.

Darcy poured herself half a glass, then offered him the bottle.  “Why does this bug you so much?”

“I don’t know,”  He admitted, swirling the contents of his glass before he took a swallow  “I think I’m envious.”

“Hmm.”  Darcy reached over to trace the words on Clint’s right arm.  “Are you sure this is about me, and not Mr. or Ms. ‘Take the shot’?”

Clint looked down at his arm and took a drink without answering.

_Oh my god, not another one._   “Have you tried using your words, like a big boy?”

Clint muttered something Darcy couldn’t make out, but his tone communicated enough.

“Yes, yes, it’s hopelessly complicated, I’m sure you could  _never ever_ work it out,”  Darcy patted his knee patronisingly.  

Clint shot her a dirty look. “What’re you trying to say?”

“That you’re being a coward.”  Darcy said, sipping her whiskey.  “You don’t want to have to have uncomfortable feelings-type conversations.”  

Jane leaned down and kissed Darcy on the head, and she smiled at her.  “There isn’t a magic relationship bullet, Clint.  You just have to do the work.”

“Do ‘the work’?”  He repeated skeptically.  “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means a lot of shit, Clint.”  Darcy finished her glass to stop herself from saying something caustic.

Clint raised his eyebrows.  “That… is some unaddressed anger there.”

“Yeah,” Darcy admitted, grimacing. “Look, Clint, I’m already carrying at least two idiots on my back.  I don’t think I have room for you too.”

“See, but that’s why I came to you!”  Clint protested.  “I mean, come on, Tony?  Cap?   _Barnes_?  How the hell does that  _work_?”

“You didn’t come to me.”  Darcy corrected.  “You came to Jane.”

Clint waved his glass dismissively.  “Semantics.  It was to get to you.”

Darcy saw the shadow of movement in the kitchen and got to her feet.

“Well, next time you want to ‘get to me’,”  She took Jane’s hands and pulled, “Try talking.  You know, like you should do with Natasha and whoever that is on your right arm.”

Thor smiled when he saw Darcy and Jane, but the way he looked Clint and the bottle he was still holding wasn’t friendly.  

“This was ill done of you.”  Thor told Clint seriously, lifting Jane into his arms as if she weighed nothing.  She looked asleep as soon as she snuggled against his chest.  “Jane is not accustomed to strong drink-- it is well known.”

“I knew she was a light weight, yeah,” Clint admitted, looking uncomfortable at the other man’s disapproval, “But I didn’t think it was this bad!  She didn’t even have one drink.”

Thor frowned.  “You truly believed that Darcy would exclude Jane from her gatherings with yourself and the Man of Iron without cause?  Their connection is valuable.  She would only do so with Jane’s well being in view.”

When Darcy put a hand over Thor’s, all the hair on her arm lifted.  “Whoa there, big guy.  He’s just a harmless idiot.”

“Hey,”  Clint protested, then frowned as if he couldn’t come up with a good counterargument.

“Very well,”  Thor acquiesced reluctantly, still frowning, “As you say, no harm was intended.  But should this occur again in the future--”

“Nope, got it, hands off Jane, we’re good.”  Clint pushed the bottle of whiskey far away from himself to demonstrate.  Thor gave him a long, serious assessment before nodding.

Kissing Darcy’s hair, he turned and left the room, one hand carefully cradling Jane’s head.

When Darcy started to follow, Clint scrambled to his feet.  “No, wait!”

Darcy raised her eyebrows at him.  Clint’s fingers twitched, like he was plucking invisible strings.  “What do I say?  I mean, you said talk to them, but…”

Darcy looked at the way Clint’s shoulders curled in, like he was protecting his heart, and couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed at him.  “Say that you don’t want to do anything that makes either of them uncomfortable-- but you’re not happy with the way things are, and you’d like to,” She shrugged, “Well, whatever it is that you’d like to, I guess I don’t know what your end game is here.”

“ _I_ don’t know what my end game is, how could you?”  Clint smiled.  He glanced at the bottle of whiskey he’d left on the floor, and shook his head.  “Okay, Barton.”  He muttered under his breath,  “Time to go own your car-crash of a life.”

“Good luck!”  Darcy called, watching him walk out of the room with the enthusiasm of a man going to his execution.

 

James probably had something more productive to do, but when Darcy crawled into bed even though it was barely afternoon, he got in with her.

She leaned back into his warmth and sighed.  “Thank you for not being an idiot.”

He laughed and Darcy felt the puff of his breath against her shoulder.  “Steve?”

“Surprisingly, no.”  Darcy admitted, pulling his arms around her more tightly.  “Clint wanted advice.”

“Did you tell him to just go get drunk with Tony Stark?”  James suggested. “Because that seems to be-- ow.  Are you biting me?”

“Yes, I’m a very well established hypocrite, shut up.”  Darcy said, and bit him again for good measure.

When he grabbed her hair to restrain her he hesitated, kissing the back of her neck softly to ask for permission.  

Darcy brought his free hand to her mouth and kissed it.  “It’s at least three hours until dinner.” She pointed out, moving her shoulder to give him better access to the side of her neck.

James made a considering noise, and she felt the vibration of his throat against her back.  “I don’t think the door is locked.”  He murmured, but didn’t seem inclined to stop.

“Well,” Darcy slid his hand under her shirt, “I guess you’ll have make sure we’re loud enough that no one walks in.”


	33. Mr. Fantastic

“Well,”  Darcy said, taking in the tableau of Clint with his feet in Coulson’s lap at the breakfast table,  “I guess you had the talk.”

Coulson didn’t look up from his newspaper.  “Yes.”  He said, affecting boredom, but Darcy saw him rub Clint’s ankle under the table.  Darcy wasn’t sure if she found the sight of Coulson in his pajamas endearing or disturbing.  They were what she would have imagined, if she’d tried to picture what Coulson would be like when he wasn’t wearing a suit-- blue linen pinstriped pajama pants with a gray T-shirt that looked like it might actually not be new.  Clint’s seemed to be more holes than shirt, although it was clean.  And he’d finally taken off that stupid armguard.

 _What the fuck do you think you’re doing?_ wound its way around his left arm in Natasha’s loopy cursive, a strange counterpoint to the neat, straight line of the soulmark on his right arm.  Darcy glanced at Coulson’s arm to see what Clint had said and smirked at the bold black letters cut into his wrist.   ** _Make me._**

“So, who won the bet?”  She asked, heading to the fridge to complete the errand that had brought her there in the first place.

“ _Technically_ Natasha, actually Barnes.”  Clint admitted, making a flip-flop motion in the air with his hands.  He raised his eyebrows when Darcy uncapped orange juice and started to drink straight from the carton.  Coulson opened his mouth like he was about to comment, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to finish it.”  She promised.  “I don’t know who the fuck came up with the name ‘Winter Soldier’, but that shit is inaccurate.  Between the two of them it’s like sleeping in sauna.”

She took another long swig of juice.  “Unless by ‘winter’ they meant ‘good to have around during the winter’, which yes, I could see that, but this time of year he is goddamn dehydrating.”

“Serum side effect.”  Clint said, shrugging.  “Nat’s pretty warm too.  Kept me from freezing to death a few times.”

“Barton, stop discussing classified missions.”  Coulson said with the absent tone of a man on autopilot.  Darcy had never been his biggest fan, but Clint gave her a whole new perspective.  

 _He must secretly like pains in the ass,_ she mused, watching his impassive face.  Clint’s type seemed to be ‘stoic with a sense of humor’, if Natasha was anything to go by.  It was possible there was some undercover snark lurking behind Coulson’s agent-y exterior.

“Hey, are you like, a regular human guy?”  She asked, throwing the empty carton in the general direction of the recycling.  “By which I mean, you can get drunk, right?”

“Yes.”  Coulson said, watching it skid across the floor with the faintest trace of amusement on his face. “Although I sense I am going to regret answering this question.”

“Thought I’d check. I mean, you did some back from the dead mojo.”  Darcy walked across the room to throw the carton away properly.  “You wanna drink Tony’s booze with us tonight?”

Coulson glanced at Clint and then at Darcy’s soulmarks.  She grinned.  “If you’re worrying about embarrassing yourself in front of Steve, he won't be there.  He and James are having a date night or something.”

“...I’ll consider it.”  Coulson said, his forehead wrinkling.

“ _If you invite Pepper he’ll come_.”  Clint whispered loudly, and then flinched like Coulson had hit him, although Darcy hadn’t seen anything happen.  “He has a huge crush on her.”

“A man of taste.  I could probably make that happen.”  Darcy said, nodding thoughtfully.  “We could use some ladies anyway, it’s been kind of a sausage-fest.  Hang on, let me see if Sue can come… I know she’s not a regular human, but eh, she can drink, and honestly she needs to get out more.”

“Who wouldn’t.”  Clint muttered, making a face.

Sue picked up on the second ring sounding way too cheerful.  “Hey Darcy!  I was just talking about you.”

“Oh really?”  Darcy asked, waving a hand at the table as she headed back to her room.  Clint made a gesture that could have been a goodbye, clearly more focused on flicking pieces of his cereal so that it would bounce off the wall and land on Coulson’s shoulder while he pretended not to notice.

“I’ve been going out a lot more lately, which you know of course.  Reed was asking about it.  I swear, he--”  Her tone changed abruptly.  “--So nice to have some girl time.”

“Speaking of girl time, we’re having a thing tonight, if you want to come.”  Darcy said, suspecting that Reed was probably eavesdropping.

“Oh, like a party?”  Sue asked in the same weird voice.

“No, just me and Pepper, doing girl stuff.”  Darcy lied.  The closest the three of them had gotten to doing ‘girl stuff’ together was drinking their alcohol in a cocktail instead straight.  “Like we usually do.”

“You know, I think I’d love to.”  Sue said sweetly.  “What time?”

 

When the elevator opened on Sue  _and_ Reed Richards, Darcy stifled her groan.

“ _I’m sorry, I couldn’t get rid of him._ ”  Sue whispered, giving her a hug.  “ _He’s acting all weird and suspicious lately._ ”

He stuck to Sue’s side like a burr all night, until the only person willing to talk to her was Darcy.  Tony and Rhodey clustered together on the far side of the room, holding their drinks close to their chests while they watched Reed explain Darcy’s allergy to her for the third time.

Darcy pointed to her empty glass and made eye contact with Tony.   _Help me,_ she mouthed, and Tony shook his head slowly with an expression of profound pity on his face.

Rhodey glanced between them, then back at Reed, and sighed.

Reed gave him a bland smile when he joined the group, as if he had no idea who Rhodey was, and continued talking to himself.  When Rhodey slipped a flask from his pants and began to pour the contents into Darcy’s glass she grabbed his hand.  “God bless you, my son.”  She whispered seriously, and nodded to Sue.  She was beginning to look glassy-eyed, leaning her head against the wall and drifting to the right sleepily, but when she saw Rhodey’s flask she perked up.

Rhodey seemed to read the look she darted towards Reed and sidled up next to her.  Sue held her glass low, and Darcy heard a faint clink as her glass of cranberry juice was introduced to Rhodey’s vodka.

When Sue smiled her thanks Rhodey lingered, then leaned towards her.  “So, does this asshole  _ever_ stop talking?”  Rhodey muttered under his breath with a grin.  If Darcy hadn’t been standing so close she would have missed it completely.

Sue stared at him, her eyes darting over Rhodey’s face to his loose dress shirt, taking in the casual way he’d rolled the sleeves up past his elbow, his expensive but well-used watch.  Trying to assess his character.  Darcy waved a hand to get her attention, and the thumbs up she flashed seemed to put Sue at ease.

“Took you long enough.”  She told him, not bothering to lower her voice, and across the room, Tony dropped his glass in shock.

Rhodey glanced from Sue to Reed, caught between delight and horror.  “I--Wow.  That is… going to be complicated.”

Sue rolled up her sleeve with a haste that was almost frantic.  “No, I’ve just got the one.”  She said, looking a little like she might start crying.  “But I knew you had to be talking about him.”

Rhodey stared at his words on her arm.  “So you-- shit, really?”  He shook his head, pushing up his shirt so she could see the soulmark on his bicep.  “Thought I was gonna be an old man before I found you, but I guess any amount of time with that guy would seem like forever.”

Sue reached over to trace her finger over her words, then glanced at the soulmark on Rhodey’s forearm.   _Fuck you, this is a fantastic idea._   “Tony?”  She asked, and smiled.

Rhodey nodded, looking a little stunned, and it crossed Darcy’s mind how beautiful Sue was.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed before, but there was something about her that was different all of a sudden.  Maybe it was that for once, she looked happy.  

If Tony’s reaction hadn’t been enough to make everyone realize something was going on, the way they were showing each other their arms should have-- but most of the party hadn’t noticed, or seemed to be giving them privacy.  Darcy had begun to hope that there wouldn’t be a scene when Reed abruptly went silent.  

“Susan,”  He said, quietly, staring at her rolled up sleeve.  “What are you doing?”

There was something about his voice that wasn’t right.  When she saw Sue’s body language change from open and relaxed to curl protectively around her soulmark, some instinct flickered to life in Darcy’s stomach.

 _I wish James was here,_ she thought, setting her drink down and shifting closer to Sue.

“I’m talking to my soulmate, Reed.”  Sue said calmly, meeting his eyes, but none of the tension went out of her body.  Rhodey’s hand was resting on her arm, and he frowned, obviously able to feel it.  “I finally found him, isn’t that wonderful?  Thank you for helping me look all these years.”

“I’m very happy for you.”  Reed said, looking anything but,  “But we had an agreement, Susan.  You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Darcy glanced around the room that had gone quiet.  “No, dude, I think that’s what you’re doing, actually.”

“If I wanted to know what the secretarial pool thought of my behavior, I would have asked.”  Reed said acerbically, giving Darcy’s jeans a condescending glance.  

“Are you trying to imply there’s something wrong with being a secretary?”  Pepper asked curiously, walking across the room to stand near Sue.  “I found it to be a much more challenging occupation than the one I have now.  I find that’s often the case-- the lowest paid jobs are the most difficult.”

“Maybe Reed’s been working harder than I ever suspected, then.”  Tony commented, sauntering across the room to lean against the wall next to Rhodey.  “Seeing as he managed to go bankrupt and all.”

Reed had probably only meant to scare them, when he stretched so suddenly towards Tony-- the kind of stupid fake-out that bullies always did on television.  Darcy had never understood why flinching when you thought you were going to get hit proved you were a coward.  It seemed like common sense to her.

There must have been something to give it away-- a flick of his eyes, or past experience-- because Sue reacted before anyone else even realized something was going on.

Reed put a hand up to his face and stared at the blood dripping from his nostril in disbelief.  From the sick, off-kilter way it looked, he might have actually broken his nose when he’d whipped his face forward and slammed it into Sue’s force field.

Tony stared at the bubble shimmering around them, and his face went hard.  “Richards.  I’d like you to leave.  Now.”

“Fine.”  Reed agreed, and glanced at Sue.  “Come on, Susan.”

“I--No.”  Sue said, her eyes darting towards Tony.  “I think I want to stay here.  If that’s okay.”

“Stay as long as you want.   _Move in._ ”  Tony said pointedly, still staring at Reed.  “Mi casa es Sue’s casa.  Bring Johnny, if he wants to come.”

Reed shook his head.  “The lengths you’ll go to, Stark.  But unfortunately, you can’t have them, as much as I’d love to get rid of Johnny.  All members of the Fantastic Four have my proprietary technology in their DNA.  I’m afraid I can’t let that walk away.”

Sue flinched, her force field flicking for a second.

“You can’t patent a  _person._ ”  Tony said, looking disgusted.  “But if it comes down to that, possession  _is_ 9/10ths of the law.  Her body, her possession, unless you think you  _actually_ own her.  Think they call that human trafficking now.  Sounds a little bit better than slavery, but the concept’s the same.  Pretty sure it's illegal, not to mention a PR nightmare.”

“Well.  We’ll see about that.”  Reed said, giving Sue a hard look.  “I’m sure she’ll be back, in any case.  At least for her brother.”

“Don’t you  _dare_  bring Johnny into this.”  Sue hissed, and Reed jumped to avoid tendrils of force field that sparked with her anger.  Darcy pulled out her phone.

“He’ll be over here before Reed even gets back.”  She told Sue reassuringly.  “I’ll text him right now.”

Reed glared at her, his hands clenched into fists.  “I’ll remember this.”  He said, giving Darcy a pointed stare.  “And I’ll be back.”

“Are we  _sure_ he’s not a supervillain?”  Darcy asked, watching Reed stalk from the room.  “Because that sounded pretty villain-y.”


	34. Ben

Darcy woke up with Tony’s elbow in her ribs and J.A.R.V.I.S’s voice in her ear.  Her face was buried in James’s chest, his metal arm a heavy barrier between her and the rest of the world that tightened when she tried to move away from the sharp point of Tony’s arm.  

“Sir, I am afraid he is threatening to enter the suite if you are unwilling to come to the door.”  J.A.R.V.I.S warned.  Tony made an inarticulate noise of annoyance and rolled closer to Steve, who folded him unconsciously into his body, one leg wrapped around his hip.

“Lewis, I will give you any amount of money to get the door.”  He muttered, doing his best to hide in Steve’s neck.

Darcy paused, picturing her vision board.  “Fancy dates.”  She murmured sleepily, and tried to sit up.  James grunted, but let her move his arm after she shoved at his shoulder.

“Sure, whatever.”  He agreed, and seemed to fall back asleep immediately nestled in Steve’s warmth.

The floor was a minefield of empty bottles and shoes, so that Darcy had to shuffle her feel across the carpet to keep herself from stepping on something and tripping.  The livingroom was in slightly better condition, Rhodey sleeping on the couch with Sue curled up against his side under his jacket. Natasha and Clint were sitting up against the wall, their heads together, and even though his eyes were slightly open Darcy was pretty sure Clint was asleep.  

Coulson was standing in the hall, immaculate, with a paper tray of coffees and an oddly blank face.  There was something about his whole demeanor that was off.  He had never been exactly expressive, but Darcy was used to his small sarcasms by now-- he should have looked at her rumpled clothes and uncombed hair and made a little face of disapproval, but he just handed her the tray and asked to speak to Tony again.

Darcy glanced behind her at the wreck of the suite.  “Can this wait?  We all had kind of a weird night.”

“I am aware of that, Miss Lewis.”  Coulson said impassively, and Darcy had the sudden, irrational urge to shut the door in his face and lock it.  Some instinct was screaming that he was a threat, although she wasn’t sure to who.  

“Fine, well if you want Tony you’re gonna have to go pry him away from Steve yourself.”  She finally said, stepping aside to let the man enter.  And even  _that_ didn’t put a dent in his blank agent facade.  

Darcy knelt a few feet away from Clint and Natasha, in case he was someone who startled.  “Clint, wake up, something fucked up is happening and I need you.”

Because his eyes were already open, Darcy didn’t know if he was looking at her until he spoke.  “What?”

“Look, Coulson’s here, and he’s being all agent-y, and it’s just… I don’t know, but something is wrong.”

Natasha’s eyes snapped open as soon as Clint was on his feet, and they followed Darcy back to the bedroom.

Steve was sitting with his back to the headboard with Tony between his legs, eyes petulantly closed but sitting up.  Darcy grabbed two of Coulson’s coffees and shoved one in Tony’s hands, then crawled onto the bed and let James pull her against his chest.   He wrapped a hand around her wrist in a way he hadn’t done in months.

Coulson closed his eyes at the sight of Clint, then turned to face Tony as if this was a conversation only between the two of them. “I was contacted by Ben Grimm about the possibility that the process that created the Fantastic Four is about to be exposed to the public.”

Tony took a long pull from his coffee before answering.  “Sounds like something you should be talking to ‘Mr. Fantastic’ about.”

“Reed Richards is the person who may be exposing the information.”

“Clint, please go get Sue.”  Darcy said into the silence the followed Coulson’s statement.

“I don’t believe that to be necessary.”  He objected, turning to look at Clint, who stared back from the doorway impassively.  

Darcy raised her eyebrows.  “So, we should all just sit around and make decisions about her, but not involve her in them?  I’m sorry, I was under the impression she was an adult, not a fucking baby.  Not to mention she’s probably the only scientist other than Reed who knows anything about the process that made them what they are.  Not including her is bullshit, and you know it.”

Natasha tilted her head at Darcy as Clint turned back to the livingroom, then moved further into the room to sit cross legged on the bed near her feet, claiming one of Coulson’s coffees in the process.

When he returned with her Sue glanced around the bedroom and tensed immediately.  “What is he doing?”

Tony grabbed the last coffee and shook it in Sue’s direction, patting the bed next to him as if he were bribing a pet dog with a treat, and she smiled reluctantly.

Coulson waited until she had taken a seat to answer.  “Ben Grimm seems to be under the impression that Reed Richards may intend to use patent law to leverage Ms. Storm, and presumably her brother as well, into returning to the Fantastic Four.”

Tony snorted.  “That’s… wow.  Moronic?  Even if he  _did_ want to patent it, which would be an  _immeasurably stupid thing to do,_ all he could really do is sue them.”

Sue looked down, running a hand absently over her soulmark.  “I doubt he could even do that.  I worked on the project.  He can’t shut me out, if he wants to try to patent the process.”

“Do you think he would try to patent the process?”  Coulson asked neutrally.

“I don’t know.”  She admitted.

Steve frowned.  “If it won’t have much effect on Sue, why bother?”

Tony turned and planted a kiss on his soulmate’s cheek.  “You’re adorable.”  He informed him.  “It’s blackmail, sweetpea.  There’s no legal way to make her come back, but, it’s like my arc reactor tech, or the suits.  None of that is publicly patented, beyond what my dad originally developed.  Not safe for it to be available to every Victor Von Doom and their mother.”

“What you are failing to take into consideration is the ramifications of setting this as a legal precedent.”  Coulson interrupted, his voice perfectly controlled.  “Aside from the inherent dangers of making that information available ‘to every Victor Von Doom and their mother’, it would open the door to patents on other processes that alter an individual’s DNA.  For example, Project Rebirth.”

Steve flinched, but Tony seemed unconcerned, running a hand over the arm around his waist soothingly.  “And the bullshit keeps on coming.  If anyone has a claim on  _that_ intellectual property, it’s the estate of Howard Stark, which is--whoops!-- me.”

“There were modified processes.”  Coulson’s eyes drifted over to Natasha.

Natasha raised her eyebrows.  “I welcome you to try to discover such information.”

“There might be some on me.”  James admitted, his grip on her wrist nearing something painful.  “I didn’t exactly plan… when the programing broke, I did some damage, but I was having a hard time not… going back.  When I came here, I hadn’t finished.  There might still be some.”

“You don’t need to go back.”  Steve said, sitting up straighter and ignoring Tony’s grumble.  “Tell me what you missed, and I’ll take care of it.”

Coulson looked about to protest, and Steve stared him down.  “If I’m good to go on SHIELD missions, I’m damn sure able to take on Hydra again.”

“You misunderstand my concerns.  You’re highly visible.”  Coulson glanced down at his hands, the only real tell of discomfort Darcy had seen all morning.  “The second you’re out of the public eye…”

Tony leaned back to whisper something in his ear and Steve went quiet, though his body language was still tense.

“We’ve gotten off-topic.”  Coulson said, obviously choosing to ignore that he was the one who introduced the subject in the first place.  “Richards is going to be an issue.  One that SHIELD is not the best equipped to deal with.”

When Sue brought a hand up to brush her hair back from her face, Darcy thought she could see through it.  “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about  _what_?”  Tony demanded.  “Because going back to that asshole?  That is not the answer.”

“I can take care of myself, Tony.”  Sue said, her skin opaque again.  “And if that’s what he’s going to do… the process is  _dangerous._   And it’s inconsistent.  You know what happened to Ben.”

Darcy leaned over to the nightstand to exchange her coffee for her cellphone, and started tapping out a text.

“You are not responsible for anything that asshole does.”  Tony argued, splashing his coffee over the rim of his cup as he gestured.  “Or for any idiots who agree to have an unstable procedure performed on them.”

“And what about the ones who  _don’t_ agree, Tony?”  Sue demanded.  “Because I don’t know how many super villains out there are big on consent.”  She looked down as if she had felt something, then reached into her pocket.  Whatever was on the screen made her raise her eyebrows.

“I have to go.  Johnny needs me.”  She murmured, and walked out without another word, ignoring Tony as he called after her.


	35. Rescue

Johnny closed one eye in concentration as he worked a piece of metal deeper into the mechanism that kept the lab door closed.  “Man’s supposed to be a genius, but he can’t be bothered to change the locks.”  He mumbled around the key card in his mouth.  “Sloppy.”

Sue raised her eyebrows while she held the flashlight for him.  “How often did you…?”

“Often enough.”  Darcy observed as the light above the keypad turned green and the lock popped open.  

There was something disorienting about being in Reed Richard’s laboratory, in being in a laboratory without J.A.R.V.I.S’s lighting or Jane’s old cups of tea.  There were filing cabinets where the coffee pot should be, a machine with a faint green glow under the window, a thousand things out of place-- but the countertops seemed the same, and the air had a smell to it that was familiar to her.  

“It’ll be in here.”  Sue murmured, popping open the bottom drawer of one of the filing cabinets.  “The hard copies, anyway.”

Darcy pulled one of the flashdrives Tony’d given her from her pocket and slotted it into the first tower.  “The only ones?”

“Unless he’s started doing his own filing, which I doubt.”  Sue flipped open a green file and set it in her lap.  “I only made these.”

Johnny opened his hands and Darcy tossed him a handful of flashdrives.  “I don’t know if any of these are on an independent server, so we need to hit all of them.”

He rolled his eyes.  “We should just--”

“Set the building on fire.”  Darcy finished for him.  “And then there will still be copies in the cloud, and Reed will know we’ve been here, and this whole thing will be completely fucking pointless.  If you wanted the building on fire you should have done it before you left.”

“We can always come back.”  Sue suggested absently, pulling another file into her lab before she seemed to realize what she had just said.  “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did.” Johnny said, his smile electric.  

Darcy hesitated at the last terminal before she slotted the drive into the port, a part of her concerned that there might be a private laptop in Reed’s bedroom that she should keep one in reserve for.  

Or maybe it was intuition, because as soon as it connected an alarm started to sound.  

“Son of a bitch,”  She sighed, watching flat metal panels snap over the doors and windows.  

Sue slid the stack of files into Johnny’s arms and jumped to her feet, hammering at the keypad by the door.  “He changed the codes, fuck, I think this is a--”

Johnny lit the papers in his arms on fire, and the machine under the window exploded.

It felt like time must have stopped and gone on without her.   Darcy blinked at the bubble of glowing air surrounding her, her brain taking a moment to catch up.  Johnny was smoking faintly under a layer of green-blue gelatin that seemed to cover everything outside of the force field.  Ever Sue's outstretched arms were coated with it.

“What the fuck is this?”  Johnny pushed a hand down his arm and a layer of slime fell to the floor.

Sue stared at Darcy, her hands shaking in a way that she’d never seen before.  “It’s bacta.”

Johnny’s eyes scanned the room and he started to steam, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Can I do it now?”

Sue nodded tightly, extending the field around herself.  “Light it up.”

 

“We don’t  _need_ the Avengers, she said.”  Darcy muttered under her breath, crouching behind a car next to Sue listening to the encroaching sirens.  “We can do this on our own, she said.  It'll be  _covert_ , she said.”

“Darcy, this was your plan.”  Sue reminded her, trying to duck even lower.  “Can’t we call Tony?”

“Yeah, it was my plan, which did not include us blowing up the goddamned building.”  Darcy hissed.  “You think the police aren’t gonna make the connection if Tony flies over here to pick us up?”

“He could send a car.”  Sue protested, then bit her lip.  

“He  _could._ ”  Darcy agreed.  “But, he will not.  What is taking Johnny so fucking long?”

“There he is.”  Sue sighed in relief as a blue sedan pulled up and flashed its lights twice.  “I told you he knew how to hotwire a car.”

It’s not until they’ve piled into the back that Darcy notices that Johnny isn’t driving.

“You are all idiots.”  Sam said matter-of-factly, shifting into drive.

“You told him?”  Sue demanded, staring at Johnny sitting in the passenger seat with his feet on the dashboard.

“Nope.”  Johnny denied, giving the ‘p’ a long popping sound.  “I did not.”

“I followed you.  It was easy.  Because you are all idiots.”  Sam nodded at Johnny.  “Speaking of which, I got something for you in the glove box.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows but dropped his feet to the floor and opened the compartment to pull out a red t-shirt.  

“That’s your new uniform.”   Sam informed him.  “Put it on.”  

Johnny glanced from the shirt to Sam’s extremely unamused face.  “You’re not serious.”  

Sam nodded, a street light flashing over his face.  “You don’t have to.  You can just get out here, and find your own ride home.”  

“What about them?”  Johnny demanded, gesturing to the back seat.  “Why don’t they have to wear one?”

Sam shrugged.  “Dunno.  Put it on.”  

Johnny sighed, then obediently stripped off his shirt.  Darcy snorted when she saw the six inch white letters on his chest that proclaimed him ‘Stupid’.”  

“Wait.  Do you match?”  Darcy craned her neck to see what Sam had on under his jacket.  “Are you wearing an “I’m With Stupid” shirt?”

“For the rest of my life, apparently.”  Sam muttered, giving his soulmate a sideways glance that danced between exasperation and affection.  “We’re here.”

Sue frowned out at the dark parking lot they’d pulled into.  “Where are we?”

Sam jerked his head at a black car a few spaces away with its lights off.  “That’s your next ride.  She’ll get you home.”

Sue shrugged and opened her door, but Johnny hesitated, looking down at his shirt.  Sam shoved him.  “Get the fuck out of my car.”  He said, then leaned over to plant an oddly sincere kiss on the side of the Johnny’s face.  “I’ll meet you back there.”

Pepper smiled at Darcy when she climbed into the passenger seat, her left arm covered in armor up to the shoulder.  She held the wheel with her right hand, her repulsor covered palm facing the window defensively.

“Don’t worry,”  She assured them, “I’m a very good one handed driver."


	36. Victor

Darcy thought that Johnny was walking into the tower with an unusual amount of swagger for a man wearing a shirt that said ‘Stupid’, up until the moment he saw Steve waiting for them in the lobby.  

Then she thought that if he were Sue, he would have disappeared.  

As soon as she was within arm’s reach, Steve pulled her into a hug that she wanted to collapse into.  It hadn’t really sunk in-- the lab, and what that explosion had meant-- until the adrenaline had subsided.  In the car, with Pepper’s hand against the window, she had started to shake, feeling the same kind of freak out she’d experienced the night she’d met James hovering at the edge of her consciousness.

With Steve there, it was almost impossible to keep it together anymore.  He was always a safe place.  

“Bucky’s waiting for you in the elevator.”  He whispered,  “We’ll take the next one.”

Darcy swallowed her hysteria down and nodded, not trusting her voice.  Steve gave her a push towards the door, his hand warm on the small of her back.  The faint sound of Johnny’s alarmed voice followed her, but she couldn’t parse the words.

James had that too focused look on his face, the one he wore when they were under attack.  But this time he was looking at  _her_.

“Are you m-mad at me?”  She asked, forcing the words out even though the shaking was there again, hard enough to make her teeth rattle.  Her face felt numb and tingly, so much so that she had the urge to touch it to make sure it was still there.  “I’m s-sorry, I didn’t-- th-thought we could do it--”

He cut her off with his mouth, metal hand fisted tight in her hair, and Darcy let go and let herself shake.  

“Yes. I’m mad at you.”  He whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers, his free hand running frantically over her checking for injuries.  “I am  _so_ fucking mad at you.”

“I’m s-sorry,”  She repeated, a hard shudder going through her body that didn’t blend into the shaking, because James felt it.  And then they were on the floor and he was whispering a thousand things against her face, holding her in his lap.  

“So fucking… worse than Steve, Darcy, I swear to god.”  His mouth was pressed against her cheek, hands stroking her hair.  “Just take me  _with_ you, Jesus Christ, I know, okay, I know you can do things, but  _take me with you_.”  

Darcy took a deep breath to steady herself with his smell, something comforting about his low, whispered ranting.  “Just take me with you, take me with you-- at least tell me, promise you’ll tell me before you do shit like this.  I need you to promise me.”

Darcy nodded, rubbing her nose against his cheek gently.  “I’m sorry.”

James sighed and seemed to be doing the same thing with her that she had been doing with him, tucking his face into her hair and inhaling.  They sat there until Darcy began to feel too warm from his body heat, her lower back stiff from sitting on the floor.  

“We need to go report.”  He said once her shaking had stopped, picking her up automatically before he shook his head and set her on her feet.  Darcy took his hand in both of hers and held it to her chest, missing the lack of responsibility she always felt when he carried her in emergencies.  This wasn’t an emergency.  She didn’t need to get to safety-- she was already there.  

When they reached the common room Johnny was slouching sulkily on the same couch as Steve and Sam, his legs spread too wide in an attempt to look casual.  Sue and Tony were talking in low voices on the far side of the room, shooting occasional glances around the room like they were afraid of being overheard, perking up when they saw them standing in the doorway.  

“So.”  Tony rubbed his hands together,  “We’ve been talking about your assassination attempt without you, and a few things are jumping out.”

Darcy expected James to tense, but he seemed to just… still.  His face must have done something disturbing, because Steve was on his feet before Sue spoke.  

“It was a trap for you.  And Johnny.”  Her eyes flicked to her brother.  “It didn’t go off until he lit up.  But… he didn’t think I’d be there.”

“He doesn’t see Sue as a threat.”  Darcy murmured, her mind playing out how tonight would have gone if anyone else had come with them.

Sue nodded.  “I think we can use that.”

 

Watching Sue talk to Victor Von Doom was one of the most surreal experience of Darcy’s life.

“He was so nice.”  She said blankly, still recovering from the genuine concern in his voice when Sue had explained the situation-- how polite and respectful he had been.  

Sue smiled, pulling her sleeve back down over the soulmark she’d exposed during the video call.  “Victor was very close to his mother.  He values women.”

Tony muttered something under his breath about chivalry that got Steve to kick him.  

“No, but for real, I am beginning to be seriously concerned that Reed is a supervillain and Doom is like, some kind of innocent bystander or something.”  Darcy protested.  “I mean, that guy seemed really nice?  And way less murder-y?”

Sue shook her head.  “It’s not that simple… Victor has done some things that were pretty horrible.  It’s just that he has different rules of engagement than Reed.  Reed is very by the numbers-- that’s how he does everything.  Probability, equations…”

“So, what, he did the math and it made the most sense to  _not_ be a supervillain?”  Darcy asked incredulously, feeling nauseated.  “Like, there was no moral consideration at all, he was just like ‘Oh, police involvement would make doing my work really  _inconvenient_ , I better seem heroic’.”

Johnny and Sue exchanged a look, and she shrugged.  “I was the one that… I mean, the hero stuff.”  He said, trying to smirk like it was a meaningless admission, as if he were confessing to getting drunk.  

Sam gave Johnny’s expression a long assessment before leaning over to kiss the side of his face.  “You are so stupid, man.”  He muttered, shaking his head.  

“You keep saying that,”  Johnny said through a yawn that left him with his arm wrapped around Sam’s shoulders like a caricature of a bad date,  “But I think you like me.”

“I love you.”  Sam raised his eyebrows at the arm slung over him, but didn’t move away from it.  “You’re still stupid.”

“If we could table the adorable middle school flirting,”  Tony said, giving the sofa a pointed glance,  “We need to hammer out the details of this plan.  And by we, I mean me and Steve, and by that I mean get out.”

Steve frowned at his phrasing.  “Tony, I don’t think that--”

“ _Some people_ almost died tonight.”  He said even more loudly, turning his stare on Darcy.  “Or had their soulmates almost die.   _Some people_ should go to bed.”

“I-- yeah.  I’m tired.”  She admitted, feeling the low level tremor that had crept back in her exhaustion.

“I’ll keep you in the loop.”  Steve promised, reaching out to touch James on the arm.  “If you want to go with her.”

James nodded, short and sharp.  He’d been silent the whole evening, almost motionless, his grip on her hand so loose her fingers nearly slipped out.

He didn’t say anything in the elevator, or in the hallway, crawling into bed with her fully dressed like he had when they'd first met.  She’d expected something like the elevator once they were alone-- a hand in her hair, or around her wrist, but he was limp when she burrowed against him.  

“James,”  She whispered, pulling his unresponsive arm over her despite its weight, “Please talk to me.”

He let her press her face into his neck, and she gave into the shaking.  “P-please?  I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”  His voice sounded like he was forcing the words past clenched teeth.  “Stop  _apologizing_.”

Darcy dug her hands into his shirt to pull herself closer, almost relieved to find him stiff.  “That’s what you d-do when you fuck up.”  She pressed her lips against his skin, over his pulse, working her way up.  He hissed out a breath, and she felt his hand open and close underneath her.   “You say sorry.”

When he pinned her arms over her head she relaxed completely, the feeling of his weight a relief that went bone deep.   

“What do you  _want_ from me, Darcy?”  His voice was muffled into her shoulder like he was hiding there.  “Keep asking me to talk to you… You don’t want to hear it.”

“I do.”  She promised, turning her wrist so she could stroke the metal back of his hand with her thumb.  “Please.”

He exhaled slowly.  “I want to kill him.  Richards.”

The flesh hand flexed against her side, gripping a handful of fabric.  “It would be hard to be subtle.  But I could kill him.”

Darcy nodded.  “I know.”  She turned to kiss the only part of him she could reach, the top of his head.  “Are you going to?”

“I don’t know.”  He admitted, and she felt him swallow.  “But I want to.  I’ve wanted to all night.  Just say yes, and I will.”

The lab layered in green bacta flashed through her mind, and Darcy felt sick again thinking of Reed sitting down at a table and doing the math to make that decision.  Felt herself start to shake again.

Darcy tried to press herself up into his body.  “I want you to s-stay with me.  I don’t give a shit about Reed, James, I don’t.  Just stay with me.”

He let go of her wrists and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into his warmth like it was the most pressing thing in the world.


	37. The Invisible Woman

There was something simultaneously disgusting and comforting about the heat of her bed when both of the boys were in it, in the way she always woke up in a pool of sweat with her face pressed to the cool counterpoint of James’s metal arm.

A hand brushed her damp bangs from her forehead, and she realized that was what had woken her.  “Hey Steve,”  Darcy whispered, eyes still closed,  “What time is it?”

“It’s late,”  He answered, voice just as soft, and she rolled over to snuggle against him despite James’s sleepy murmur of protest.  It occurred to her that they had never really slept like this before, with her in the middle.  It was alway James.

She could smell Tony’s cologne on Steve’s shirt when she pressed her face into his chest, like he’d just crawled out of bed with him.  “What’s wrong?”

There was a faint wet noise as he opened his mouth, then closed it on whatever he’d almost said.

“You take good care of him.”  He said instead, tucking her closer to his body.

Darcy frowned, too tired to articulate what was so odd about the way he was acting.  She was warm, and safe, and it was impossible not to fall asleep again.

By morning she’d forgotten anything was wrong.  

 

Darcy scanned the crowd again and sighed loudly.

“I don’t think he’s coming.”  She muttered into her bracelet, the huge pink beads reminding her viscerally of middle school.  “I mean, this  _does_  scream ‘trap’.”

“No it doesn’t.”  Coulson replied, his voice clear in her ear.  “You’re not smart enough to set up a trap.  Remember?”

“I  _do_  feel like an idiot right now.  So I’m totally in character.”  She said under her breath, but she thought there was someone tall and lanky threading towards her.  She swallowed the urge to shiver at the sight of him.  

Reed stopped a few feet away from the table, glancing at the empty chair across from Darcy with a crease in between his eyebrows.  “She was here.  I scanned for her.”

Darcy tilted her head and smiled.  “Hmm?  Oh, Sue’s inside.”  She flicked the paper travel cup in front of her.  “Waiting for her coffee.  They’re really busy today.”

Reed gave the chair another look, then pulled out the seat next to Darcy and sat down.  She found herself studying his appearance in a way she never had before.  His fingernails were clipped short and clean, but there were smudges on the cuffs of his shirt, the kind Jane always got from wiping her whiteboard with her sleeves when she was in a hurry.  His clothes in general gave the impression of something meticulously chosen and then callously used, and without meaning to, Darcy huffed a breath out of her nose.

Reed raised his eyebrows at her seeking an explanation, and she shrugged.  “Oh.  Just, you know,”  She waved a hand at his precisely cut hair, his scuffed shoes.  “Kind of a metaphor for your whole life, right?  The outfit.  You pick everything out really carefully-- probably spend a truckload of money on it-- and then you completely forget that it has any value, and destroy it.”  

“ _This_  is why you’re here?  To hurl petty insults at me?”  He asked, leaning back to prop his feet on the empty chair.

They stopped six inches from the seat, resting on on Sue’s invisible lap.

It took a moment for him to register what had happened, but that was all Sue needed to jam the needle into his calf muscle.

“Shit, Victor said I was supposed to stick him in the thigh,”  She lamented, fading back into view as Reed started to convulse.  “And he didn’t get around to threatening you yet, we were supposed to record that.”

“Seems like it worked anyway.”  Darcy observed, smiling at a woman who seemed unsure if they needed help, frozen between sitting and standing a few tables away.  “And, I mean-- this was never really going to court anyway.”

Sue wrinkled her nose, obviously not in agreement but willing to let it go, snapping two smooth silver bangles around Reed's wrists that made him hover a few inches off of his chair.  In her ear Darcy could hear Coulson giving instructions.  Inside the mass of people laughing and talking and reading books alone on their laptops, two pretty women with dark hair stood up and walked towards them, looping their arms around the unconscious man’s shoulders.

They hefted him like he weighed nothing, nodded wordlessly, and disappeared back into the crowd, Reed's feet dragging the air just above the sidewalk.  Darcy tried to watch their progress, looking for the turned heads following such a procession, but no one seemed aware there was anything unusual happening.  After the first few feet, she lost them completely.

 

Later, Darcy would wonder how she hadn’t noticed that they were the only ones having fun.  Sue was laughing with her head in Rhodey’s lap, and Johnny was victoriously, ridiculously drunk.  Pepper and Sam were more dignified, but they were still laughing and leaning a little too close, their personal boundaries loose from a few drinks and a day where things had actually gone right.  James's arm rested around Darcy’s shoulders like he just wanted the contact, instead of like he thought he might have to snatch her up and run.

But across the room, Coulson was nursing a glass of scotch with his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows next to Clint, talking in low voices.  Tony wasn’t drinking at all, sitting on one of the couches with Steve, their fingers intertwined painfully tight.  

There were a hundred signs, when she looked for them.  But she didn’t look for them that night.  She laughed with Sue, and drank with Johnny, and let James carry her to Tony’s room to sleep.

Darcy would know what was wrong even before she opened her eyes in the morning, warm but not hot, something cool pressed to her side.

_He couldn’t sleep,_ Darcy thought, her heart kicking up up in her chest,  _or he was hungry, they’re always hungry._

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, turning towards the spot where Steve usually slept.

Tony was there instead, still in a dress shirt and pants with his arms tucked underneath his head, staring at the ceiling.  

Darcy pushed herself up, shrugging off the weight of James’s arm, searching the room with her eyes to find Steve’s shield at the foot of the bed.  She sagged in relief, ready to curl back up, but Tony had turned at the rustle the sheets made when she moved, and the look on his face sent another jolt of panic through her.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, afraid to ask, and that strange moment from last night flashed through her mind.  ‘ _You take good care of him.’_

“It’s temporary.”  Tony said very quietly, addressing himself more than anyone else.  “Coulson was right, though.  He’s too visible.”

Darcy swallowed and crawled to the end of the bed to pick up the shield.  It was heavy, but she only needed to lift it enough to feel underneath it for Steve’s uniform.  Her fingers found the crisp rectangle of a letter stacked on top of it.


	38. Hawkeye(s)

Darcy sat with Steve’s shield in her lap while James read the letter, running her fingers over the ridges where the paint changed colors.  Tony had left hours ago, his face pale and exhausted, leaving her to stare at the ceiling in his place, and she’d found herself mirroring Steve’s behavior the night before, pushing James’s hair from his forehead over and over again in an effort to sooth a distress he didn’t yet feel, until he’d woken and kissed her.  She’d returned it with too much enthusiasm, and things had progressed until he had her gasping against his mouth while he worked his hand into her.  She felt strangely separated, one part of her mind flashing to the time bomb at the foot of the bed while the other was desperate to stay in the moment.  

He’d found the pile of Steve’s things afterward while Darcy pulled her pajamas into some semblance of order, picking up the uniform with a frown.  

She’d closed her eyes before she could see him freeze and just listened to the gentle ring of vibranium as he set the shield on the bed, the crackle of him unsealing the envelope.  She didn’t open them until after she had pulled it into her lap, the metal steadying to her.  

James shook his head, eyes scanning the paper again, looking less devastated and more… vaguely annoyed than she’d expected.  

“Idiot.”  He muttered, tossing the letter on the bed, and walked out of the room shuffling his feet and yawning.  

Darcy blinked, then reached for it.  It was exactly what she’d expected it to be, cryptic and dramatic, something about Hydra and the serum-- asking James to take his place while he was gone.  

But he walked back into the bedroom with a bottle of water, kissed her on the forehead, and went back to sleep as if nothing important had happened.

 

Natasha raised her eyebrows, shifting her weight off of Darcy’s knee to give her another opportunity to evade the lock.  “No reaction?”

Darcy shook her head, knocking a loose strand of hair out of her eyes.  “Nothing.  Called Steve an idiot.”

Natasha made a noise that communicated both agreement and amusement.  “Could have been stupider.  He took backup.”

Darcy waited for her to elaborate, and she might have, if she hadn’t been distracted by the  _thunk_ of an arrow in the soft mat next to her head.

“Hello Kate.”  Natasha said, her hands still firmly gripping Darcy’s leg.  Darcy eyed the projectile, then decided to take her cue from Natasha.  There wasn’t anything she could realistically do against her, anyway.  

“Where is he, Widow?”  Kate asked, her voice cold.  Darcy thought back to her fuming in the safe room, ‘This never happens to Black Widow’, and wondered if on the inside Kate was having a serious fangirl moment right now.

Natasha put light pressure onto Darcy’s thigh to remind her of the task at hand.  “He’s with Captain America.”

Across the room Darcy heard the low stretching noise of a bowstring.  “Try again.  I saw Captain America on the news this morning, pulling some kids out of a bus.”

“He’s with Steve Rogers.”  Natasha corrected herself in a bored tone.  “That was Bucky Barnes.”

“...The psycho with the metal arm?”  

Darcy waved her hand in the air to draw attention to herself.  “Hi.  Soulmate of the ‘psycho’ here.”

Kate huffed a sigh and sat crosslegged onto the floor, her bow loose but still at the ready.  “Okay.  So that may have been uncalled for.  I just-- his place looked trashed, you know?  Like more than usual, and the dog’s gone…”

Natasha got to her feet and offered Darcy a hand up.  “The dog is with Bruce.”

“He left Lucky with  _The Hulk_.”  Kate said, nothing about her face or voice expressing surprise.  She looked a little lost, poking a hole in the mat at her feet with the tip of her arrow.

Natasha shrugged.  “He likes animals.”

Darcy wondered what the internet would do with pictures of the Hulk cuddling a friendly one-eyed golden lab, and decided she was more than willing to find out if the opportunity ever presented itself.

 

“So, are we just replacing everyone on the team with their soulmates?”  Tony demanded, watching Kate test the range of motion in one of Natasha’s old uniforms.  It fit her surprisingly well.  “Should I be grooming Pepper to take over for me?”

“Pepper’d be great.”  Darcy said wistfully, twirling her chair around in a circle that made her head spin. “Though Kate isn’t Clint’s soulmate.  Jane could be Thor… I’m assuming Bruce’s soulmate is Betty Ross, and she seems smart.  It could totally work.”

Tony frowned, studying Kate through the lab window,  “Wait, so who’s his second?”

Darcy grinned, and spun her chair again.  "Phil."

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it.  "No."  He decided.  "I refuse to... No.  And his name is Agent."

"Wanna know what kind of pajamas 'Agent' wears?"  She offered, just to see him flinch.


	39. Captain America(s)

At his next press conference, Tony looked like a flag had thrown up on him.

“I can’t believe Pepper let him wear that.”  Darcy repeated, shielding her eyes in James’s neck.  She’d thought his suit was blindingly red in person, but under the lights, on an ultra HD television, it was as scorching.  When he flashed the blue silk lining his jacket Darcy wondered if it was made out the same material as his arc reactor, it was that vibrant.

James grunted in agreement, turning the volume down until Tony’s voice was just a murmur of buzz words like ‘freedom’ and ‘democracy’, a half-smile playing on his face.  The bottom of the screen crawled with information about the ‘international terrorists’ who had targeted several key government installations throughout Europe, occasionally incorporating one of Tony’s statements.

“I assure you,”  He had told a Fox reporter solemnly after the first Hydra base had been attacked by Steve, Clint, and whoever else they had taken with them,  “It is my highest priority to ensure that those responsible for this incident get  _exactly_  what they deserve.”

(He didn’t mention that what he thought they deserved was a long vacation somewhere warm, with sandy beaches and fruity drinks.)

Darcy left her face pressed into James’s shirt and inhaled the smell of his cologne and skin, nuzzling her nose against him experimentally.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Darcy snuggled closer.

When she kissed his throat he sighed and muted the television completely, leaving Tony to gesture and smirk in silence, the blue inside of his suit a wink that only a few people would understand.  She could picture Steve in a hotel room somewhere shaking his head, his eyes lingering on the tiny white stars on Tony’s tie.

Somewhere, he was taking care of every loose end James had left hanging, so that she could bite his collarbone while she unbuttoned his shirt.  She wondered if Steve had felt this greatful to her when she’d held James’s blood in with her sweater on the lobby floor.  It felt like the same thing.

He wasn’t out there, killing people that definitely needed to die, cracking himself into even more pieces-- he was  _here,_ safe and whole.  

Returning the attention she’d paid his neck, he grabbed her wrists and held them loosely at the small of her back, and Darcy arched into it, feeling a little outside of herself as she pictured what they looked like.  Her shoes on the floor next to his, her dress pooling around them, the jacket he’d worn to the restaurant draped over the arm wrest of the sofa.  Like something she’d cut out and glued onto a piece of cardboard.  A dream.

When she pushed his shirt from his shoulders Darcy ran her hand down the messy sprawl of the soulmarks on his arm, lingering on the place where her ‘ _you are not dying on me right now_ ’ ended next to the ring of Steve’s words.  

That felt right.

 

He must have said something to JARVIS so that he could take the elevator up to the penthouse without waking them, some code-- or maybe JARVIS just knew it would be better this way, to just wake up to him there the way they’d woken up to him gone.

She’s not too hot, with Tony’s body as a buffer between them, just pleasantly warm, but something wakes her.  Maybe it’s his smell, or the movement of the sheets when he pulls them up to cover his shoulder, or the incoherent murmur Tony makes when Steve wraps himself around his body.  

Without opening her eyes, Darcy groped behind her until she found one of Steve’s hands, running her fingers across his callused knuckles in greeting.  

Steve huffed a breath and stretched to run his fingers over her arm, over James’s words on her.  “You took good care of him.”  He said, soft enough that she got only an echo of the words.

“ _We_ took good care of him _._ ”  Darcy corrected, pulling James closer so she could rest her back more firmly against Tony.  “Of them.”

“Contrary to popular belief,”  Tony muttered, his face so firmly squashed into Steve’s chest that his voice came out a little nasal,  “I am capable of taking care of myself.”

“I said ‘good’ care,”  Steve pointed out mildly, wrapping Tony in an even tighter embrace.  “Not ‘care’.”

A grumble that was something between dissent and grudging acceptance vibrated Darcy’s back, and then there wass nothing but the occasional soft shush of the sheets moving against skin when someone turned to get more comfortable.

She should be asleep again in a few minutes, but there’s too much to savor.  The laundry smell of James’s shirt, how smooth Tony’s fancy sheets are against the bare skin of her legs, how warm and comforting it is to rub her feet against James’s at the foot of the bed.  

How he’s breathing in time with her, their chests moving in perfect unison.

“...We’re all awake right now, aren’t we?”  Darcy said, not really asking.

“Every one of us.”  Tony agreed, his voice still muffled.  “Waffles?”

“...I could eat waffles.”  Darcy yawned, drawing the last word out long.  “I don’t want to  _make_  waffles.”

Tony snorted at the idea.  “Did I say we were making them?  Captain America can make the waffles.”  

“Which Captain America, though,”  Darcy tangled her legs more firmly around her soulmate’s.  “Because I’m very comfortable right now.”

In the moment of silence that followed, she felt the brush of James’s eyelashes against her forehead as he opened his eyes. “...Sweetheart, I’m not… Steve is.”

“If Kate and Clint both get to be Hawkeye, you and Steve both get to be Captain America.”

“Wait, why don’t  _I_  get an understudy?”  Tony protested immediately,  “I mean, I already have Rhodey, sure, but-- and okay, Pepper… You know what, I rescind my complaint.”

“Am I Jane’s understudy?”  Darcy wondered.  “Because I’m a pretty crappy Jane.”

“You’re Natasha’s.”  James said, like it was something everyone knew about.  "Or Pepper's."

In the silence that followed, Tony carefully extricated himself from the bed.  “I’m making waffles.”  He announced.  “Also, I paid for a very fancy date less than eight hours ago.  Please keep this in mind when you become terrifying.”

If being terrifying always meant eating waffles in bed, Darcy was prepared to embrace it.


End file.
